MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS 
THE  COAST 


•BY. 


VICTORAPPLETON 


aia 


Sitfj 

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BLAKE   &  JOE,     LEAVING    THEIR    AUTOMATIC    CAMERA    WORKING, 
AIDED   IN   THE  WORK  OF   RESCUE. — Page  193. 

The  Moving-  Picture  Boys  on  the  Coast 


THE  MOVING  PICTURE 
BOYS  ON  THE  CO  AST 

OR 
Showing  Up  the  Perils  of  the  Deep 


BY 
VICTOR  APPLETON 

AUTHOR  0*  "THE  TOM    SWIFT  SERIES,"  "THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOTH. 
"THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  IN  THB  WEST,"  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 
PUBLISHERS 


BOOKS  BY  VICTOR  APPLETON 


THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  SERIES 


tamo.    Illustrated.    Price,  per  volume,  50  cents, 
postpaid 


THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  IN  THE  WEST 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE 
COAST 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  IN  THE 
JUNGLE 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  IN  EARTH- 
QUAKE LAND 


THE  TOM  SVBFT  SERIES 


itmo.    Illustrated,    Price,  per  volume,  50  ftnts, 
postpaid 


TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  MOTOR  CYCLE 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  MOTOR  BOAT 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  AIRSHIP 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  SUBMARINE  BOAT 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  ELECTRIC  RUNABOUT 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  ELECTRIC  RIFLE 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  SKY  RACER 

TOM  SWIFT  IN  THE  CAVES  OF  ICE 

TOM  SWIFT  AMONG  THE  DIAMOND  MAKERS 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  WIRELESS  MESSAGE 

TOM  SWIFT  IN  THE  CITY  OF  GOLD 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  AIR  GLIDER 

TOM  SWIFT  IN  CAPTIVITY 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  WIZARD  CAMERA 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  GREAT  SEARCHLIGHT 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  GIANT  .CANNON 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 

COPYRIGHT,  1913,  BY 
GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 


Th*  Moving  Pieturt  Btyt  on  the 


STACK 

ANNtt 

5125913 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEE  PAGE 

I  AN  UNEXPECTED  ATTACT I 

II  A  DARING  RAID 12 

III  THE  PURSUIT 23 

IV  BACK  TO  BIG  B 29 

V  A  NEW  KIND  OF  DRAMA 40 

VI  ON  THE  COAST 46 

VII  AT  THE  LIGHTHOUSE 56 

VIII  BLAKE  LEARNS  A  SECRET 62 

IX  AT  PRACTICE 71 

X  To  SAN  FRANCISCO 79 

XI  A  STRANGE  CHARGE 87 

XII  ON  A  LONG  VOYAGE 93 

XIII  A  MIMIC  FIRE 101 

XIV  ATTACKED  BY  A  SWORDFISH in 

XV  SUSPICIOUS  ACTIONS 119 

XVI  JOE  SUSPECTS   SOMETHING 127 

XVII  AFTER  THE  WRECKERS 134 

XVIII  FAILURE. 144 

XIX  ON  THE  TRAIL 151 

XX  THE  DISCOVERY 158 

iii 


ir  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  pAGE 

XXI  THE  CAPTURE jg^ 

XXII  A  LIFE  GUARD'S  ALARM 171 

XXIII  THE  DOOMED  VESSEL 181 

XXIV  OUT  OF  THE  WRECK 187 

XXV  A  NEW  QUEST 201 


THE    MOVING    PICTURE 
BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

CHAPTER  I 

AN   UNEXPECTED   ATTACK 

"WELL,  Blake,  it  doesn't  seem  possible  that  we 
have  succeeded ;  does  it  ?"  and  the  lad  who  asked 
the  question  threw  one  leg  over  the  saddle  of  his 
pony,  to  ride  side  fashion  for  a  while,  as  a  rest 
and  change. 

"No,  Joe,  it  doesn't,"  answered  another  youth. 
"But  we  sure  have  got  some  dandy  films  in  those 
boxes !"  and  he  looked  back  on  some  laden  burros 
that  were  following  the  cow  ponies  across  a 
stretch  of  Arizona  desert. 

"Well,  all  I've  got  to  say,"  remarked  the  cow- 
boy, the  third  member  of  the  trio ;  "is  that  taking 
moving  pictures  is  about  as  strenuous  work  as 
rounding  up  or  branding  cattle." 

"I  guess  you  don't  quite  believe  that,  Hank; 
i 


2      MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

do  you?"  asked  Blake  Stewart.  "You  haven't 
seen  us  work  so  very  hard;  have  you?" 

"Work  hard  ?  I  should  say  I  have,"  answered 
Hank  Selby.  "Why,  the  time  those  Indians 
charged  our  cav«,  and  Joe  and  I,  and  Munson 
and  his  crowd  were  getting  ready  to  fire  point- 
blank  at  them,  there  you  stood,  with  bullets  whiz- 
zing near  you  more  than  once,  grinding  away  at 
the  handle  of  your  moving  picture  camera  as 
hard  as  you  could.  Hard  work — huh !" 

"But  we  got  the  films,"  declared  Blake,  not 
caring  to  go  too  deeply  into  an  argument.  "And 
I'm  anxious  to  see  how  they  will  develop." 

"So  am  I,"  declared  Joe.  "I  wonder  what  will 
be  next  on  the  program?" 

"Why,  you're  going  to  look  for  your  father; 
aren't  you,  Joe — your  father  whom  you  haven't 
seen  since  you  were  a  little  chap — whom  you 
can't  even  remember?"  and  Blake  looked  sharply 
at  his  chum  and  partner,  Joe  Duncan. 

"That's  what  I  am,  Blake,  just  as  soon  as  I 
can  get  to  the  coast.  But  I  mean,  what  will  we 
do  after  that?  Go  back  to  New  York?" 

"I  suppose  so,  and  take  up  our  trade  of  making 
moving  picture  films  for  whoever  wants  them.  It 
will  be  a  rather  tame  life  after  the  excitement  we 
have  had  out  here." 


AN  UNEXPECTED  ATTACK  3 

"That's  what.  But  maybe  it  will  be  good  for 
a  change." 

The  two  moving  picture  boys,  I  might  explain 
briefly,  were  on  their  way  to  Flagstaff,  Arizona, 
after  having  gone  out  into  the  wilds,  with  a  cow- 
boy guide,  Hank  Selby,  to  make  moving  picture 
films  of  some  Moqui  Indians  who  had  broken 
away  from  their  reservation,  to  indulge  in  some 
of  their  weird  dances  and  ceremonies. 

While  making  these  films,  the  boys  and  their 
companion,  who  were  hidden  in  a  cave  where  the 
Indians  could  not  see  them,  saw  the  redmen  about 
to  torture,  as  they  thought,  four  white  prisoners. 
Joe  and  Blake  recognized  these  men  as  their 
business  rivals,  who  were  also  trying  to  get  some 
moving  picture  films  of  the  Indians,  to  secure  a 
prize  of  a  thousand  dollars,  offered  by  a  New 
York  geographical  and  ethnological  society. 

To  fire  on  the  Indians,  and  thus  save  the  white 
captives,  meant  that  Joe,  Blake  and  Hank  would 
disclose  their  position  in  the  cave,  but  there  was 
nothing  else  to  do,  and  they  did  it. 

The  white  captives,  unexpectedly  freed,  came 
rushing  toward  the  shelter,  with  the  savages  after 
them,  and  it  looked  as  if  there  wrould  be  a  fierce 
fight.  In  spite  of  this  Blake  held  his  ground, 
taking  picture  after  picture. 

And,  in  the  nick  of  time,  a  troop  of  United 


4      MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

States  cavalry  came  dashing  up  to  capture  the 
renegade  Indians,  who  surrendered;  Blake  also 
getting  pictures  of  the  dash  of  the  troopers. 

Unexpectedly  in  the  company  was  a  Sergeant 
Duncan  who  proved  to  be  a  half-uncle  of  Joe 
Duncan,  and  the  sergeant  was  able  to  tell  the  lad 
where  his  long-lost  father  was  last  heard  from, 
since  Joe  had  only  lately  learned  that  his  parent 
was  living. 

And  so,  after  their  strenuous  time  in  getting 
pictures  of  the  Indians,  the  boys  were  on  their 
way  to  Big  B  ranch,  where  Hank  Selby  was 
employed,  and  whence  they  had  started  to  find 
the  hidden  savages. 

But  Flagstaff  was  the  real  temporary  head- 
quarters of  the  lads,  since  there  was  located  a 
theatrical  company,  engaged  in  doing  some  mov- 
ing picture  dramas  based  on  Western  life,  and 
Joe  and  Blake  had  been  hired  to  "film"  those 
plays. 

They  had  been  given  a  little  time  off  to  make 
an  attempt  to  get  views  of  the  Indians  at  their 
ceremonies,  and  they  expected  to  resume,  for  a 
time,  making  films  of  more  peaceful  scenes  among 
their  theatrical  friends. 

"Yes,  we  sure  did  have  a  strenuous  time,"  re- 
marked Blake,  as  they  rode  along  at  an  easy  pace. 
"And  how  those  Indians  threw  down  their  guns, 


AN  UNEXPECTED  ATTACK  5 

and  gave  in,  when  the  troopers  charged  against 
them !" 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Joe.  "And  those  bugle 
notes,  when  they  started  to  gallop,  telling  us  that 
help  was  on  the  way,  was  the  sweetest  music  I 
ever  heard." 

"Same  here,"  came  from  Hank.  "But  say,  if 
it's  all  the  same  to  you  boys,  I  think  we  might  as 
well  camp  here  and  have  grub.  This  looks  like 
good  water  and  there's  enough  grazing  for  the 
critters  to-night.  Then  we  can  push  on  early 
in  the  morning,  and  in  a  couple  of  days  more  we 
ought  to  make  Big  B  ranch." 

"It  seems  to  take  us  longer  coming  back  than 
it  did  going,"  remarked  Blake,  as  he  slid  from 
his  pony,  and  pulled  the  reins  over  the  animal's 
head  as  a  signal  for  it  not  to  wander.  "I  thought 
we'd  sure  come  in  sight  of  the  ranch  to-day." 

"Oh,  it's  farther  than  that,"  said  Hank,  as  he 
looked  about  for  wood  with  which  to  make  a  fire. 
"I  guess  you  were  so  anxious  to  get  on  the  trail 
of  the  Indians  on  your  way  out  that  you  didn't 
notice  how  much  ground  you  covered.  And  it 
was  quite  a  few  miles,  believe  me!" 

"I  do !"  said  Joe,  with  half  a  groan.  "I'm  sore 
and  stiff  from  so  much  saddle  riding.  I'm  not 
used  to  it." 

"Oh,  you'll  limber  up  soon,"  said  Hank,  cheer- 


6      MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

fully.  "Now,  if  you  boys  will  get  the  water,  and 
break  out  the  grub,  I'll  get  supper.  It'll  soon  be 
dark." 

The  lads  busied  themselves,  and  soon  a  cheerful i 
little  blaze  was  going,  while  the  tired  horses  and' 
burros,   relieved  of  the  burden  of  saddles  and 
packs,   were  rolling  luxuriously  around  at  the 
length  of  their  tether  ropes. 

"I  wonder  if  all  the  Moquis  and  Navajos  who 
skipped  off  their  reservations  have  been  driven 
back  ?"  asked  Joe,  as  they  were  about  ready  to  eat. 

"What  makes  you  ask  that?"  inquired  Blake, 
quickly,  and  with  a  curious  look  at  his  chum. 

"Oh,  no  special  reason.  But  you  know  Captain 
Marsh,  of  the  troop  in  which  my  uncle,  Sergeant 
Duncan,  was  enlisted,  said  he  had  rounded  up 
several  bands  of  'em,  and  I  was  just  thinking 
that " 

"That  maybe  there  were  some  more  running 
around  loose  that  we  could  make  pictures  of;  is 
that  it,  Joe?" 

"Well,  yes.  You  know  that  society  offered  a 
prize  of  a  thousand  dollars  for  the  best  reel  of 
ceremonial  dances,  but  there  were  smaller  prizes  . 
for  ordinary  pictures  of  Indians  in  various  activi- 
ties. I  thought  maybe  we  could  get  some  of 
those." 

"I'm  afraid  not — not  on  this  trip,  at  least," 


'AN  UNEXPECTED  'ATTACK  7 

spoke  Blake.  "I  don't  believe  there  is  ten  feet  of 
tmexposed  film  left,  and  that  wouldn't  make  much 
of  a  reel.  We  used  up  all  we  brought  with  us 
making  those  cowboy  pictures,  the  forest  fire  and 
the  time  the  bear  chased  Hank,  besides  the  Indian 
views.  Nothing  more  doing  in  the  camera  line 
until  we  get  back  to  Flagstaff." 

"Oh,  well,  I  was  just  wondering,"  spoke  Joe, 
and  he  gazed  off  across  the  uneven  stretch  of 
country.  But  there  was  that  in  his  voice  and 
glance  which  did  not  bear  out  his  unconcerned 
words. 

However,  Blake  was  too  much  occupied  in  get- 
ting supper  just  then  to  pay  much  attention  to 
his  chum,  for  the  lad  was  hungry — as,  indeed, 
his  companions  also  seemed  to  be,  for  they  at- 
tacked the  simple  provender  with  eagerness  when 
Hank  announced  that  it  was  ready. 

The  evening  was  setting  in  when  they  had 
finished,  and,  bringing  up  a  pail  of  fresh  water, 
in  case  they  should  get  thirsty  during  the  hours  of 
darkness,  and  placing  the  saddles  and  packs  in  a 
compact  mass,  the  three  proceeded  to  spend  the 
night  in  the  open. 

And  yet  not  exactly  without  shelter,  either,  for 
they  had  with  them  small  dog-tents,  as  they  are 
called,  that  afford  considerable  protection  against 
the  night  winds  and  dew.  And,  with  a  fire  glow- 


8      MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

ing  at  their  feet,  the  travelers  were  far  from  being 
uncomfortable. 

A  pile  of  wood  had  been  collected  near  the 
blaze,  and  while  nothing  was  said  about  standing 
watch,  it  was  understood  that  if  any  of  them 
roused  in  the  night  he  was  to  pile  fuel  on  the 
embers,  not  only  to  keep  up  the  genial  heat,  but 
to  drive  off  any  prowling  beasts  that  might  try 
to  raid  their  stock  of  provisions. 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  turn  in,"  finally  announced 
Blake.  "I'm  dead  tired." 

"And  I'm  with  you,"  added  Joe. 

Hank  said  nothing,  but  the  boys  watched  him 
as  he  walked  some  little  distance  from  the  camp, 
to  a  slight  elevation.  On  this  he  stood,  gazing  off 
into  the  distance. 

"I  wonder  what  he's  looking  for  ?"  queried  Joe. 

"I— I  hardly  know,"  replied  Blake. 

And  yet,  in  his  heart,  each  lad  was  aware  of 
something  that  he  hesitated  to  put  into  words. 
Presently  Hank  came  back,  and  as  the  firelight 
shone  on  his  face  his  expression  betrayed  no 
anxiety — in  fact,  no  emotion  of  any  kind. 

"Did — did  you  see  anything,  Hank?"  asked 
Blake. 

"No — nothing.  Snooze  away.  I  think — I'll 
have  a  pipe  before  I  go  to  bed,"  and  he  sat  down 


AN  UNEXPECTED  ATTACK  9 

on  a  small  box  and  looked  into  the  glowing 
embers. 

Soon  afterward,  Joe,  looking  from  his  small 
shelter  tent,  saw  Hank  fingering  his  big  revolver, 
spinning  the  cylinder,  and  testing  the  mechanism. 

"Something's  up!"  whispered  Joe  to  himself. 
"I  wonder  if  it  can  be  that  he  saw " 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  just  then 
Hank  put  away  the  weapon  and  soon  the  aromatic 
odor  of  burning  tobacco  filled  the  night  air. 

"Oh,  pshaw !"  exclaimed  the  lad.  "I'm  foolish 
to  worry  about  nothing ;  I'm  going  to  sleep !"  and 
he  turned  over,  and  closed  his  eyes.  But,  some- 
how, sleep  would  not  come  at  once.  Even  with 
his  eyes  closed  he  could  fancy  the  figure  of  the 
cowboy  guide  sitting  by  the  fire. 

Blake  seemed  to  be  less  uneasy  than  did  his 
chum.  If  he  saw  Hank  by  the  fire  he  made  no 
mention  of  it,  and  from  his  tent  came  no  move- 
ment that  showed  he  was  awake. 

Presently  Joe  began  to  speculate  on  the  new 
experience  he  felt  would  come  to  him,  if  he  suc- 
ceeded in  locating  his  father. 

"It  really  doesn't  seem  possible — that  I'm  going 
to  have  folks  at  last,"  murmured  Joe.  "And 
maybe  not  only  a  father,  but  brothers  and  sisters 
— Uncle  Bill  Duncan  said  he  didn't  know.  I  may 
have  more  than  Blake,  if  I  keep  on,"  and  then, 


with  more  pleasurable  thoughts  than  worrying 
about  an  indefinable  something,  the  lad  finally  lost 
himself  in  slumber. 

The  camp  was  still.  Even  Hank  had  crawled 
into  his  little  tent,  after  a  final  pipe.  He  did  not 
get  to  sleep  soon,  and  had  either  of  the  boys  been 
awake  they  would  have  seen  him  come  out  several 
times  before  midnight,  and  stalk  about,  peering 
off  into  the  darkness. 

Then,  after  looking  to  the  tether  ropes  of  the 
animals,  he  would  go  back  to  the  small  shelters, 
throw  some  embers  on  the  fire,  and  drop  off  into 
a  doze.  For  the  cowboy  was  a  light  sleeper,  and 
the  least  sound  awakened  him. 

"I  guess  there'll  be  nothing  doing,"  he  whis- 
pered to  himself  after  one  of  these  little  observa- 
tions. "I  thought  I  saw  some  signs  just  about 
dusk,  but  maybe  it  was  some  slinking  coyote,  or 
a  big  jack  rabbit.  Anyhow,  if — if  anything  does 
happen  it  won't  come  during  darkness;  that  is, 
unless  it's  some  of  them  half-breed  or  Mexican 
rustlers,  and  I  don't  believe  they've  been  around 
these  diggings  lately.  I'm  going  to  snooze." 

Soon  his  heavy  breathing  told  that  he  slept, 
and  several  hours  passed  before  he  again  awoke. 
If  he  had  made  one  other  observation,  probably 
he  would  have  seen  that  which  would  have 
aroused  his  suspicions,  for,  about  an  hour  after 


AN  UNEXPECTED  ATTACK  n 

midnight,  there  was  an  uneasy  movement  among 
the  animals. 

And  in  the  starlight,  which  in  a  measure  made 
the  night  less  black,  several  shadowy,  slinking 
\forms  might  have  been  observed  creeping  toward 
the  camp  and  the  pile  of  provisions  and  supplies, 
among  the  latter  of  which  were  the  boxes  con- 
taining the  valuable  films  of  the  moving  pictures. 

It  was  Hank,  as  might  have  been  expected,  who 
awakened.  One  of  the  burros,  always  an  ex- 
citable, nervous  beast,  capered  about  and  uttered  a 
shrill  whinny  as  if  in  fright. 

Hank  was  out  of  his  tent  in  an  instant.  Leap- 
ing to  his  feet  he  blazed  away  with  his  revolver. 
Its  flash  lit  up  the  darkness,  and  was  at  once 
answered  by  half  a  dozen  other  flashes. 

"Come  on,  boys !"  yelled  Hank.  "They're  after 
us !  I  wasn't  mistaken,  after  all !  I  did  see  some 
of  'em  sneaking  around!  Lively,  now!"  and  he 
blazed  away  again. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Blake. 

"Indians!  They're  after  our  horses!"  yelled 
j  the  cowboy,  as  the  two  lads  joined  him. 


CHAPTER  II 

A   DARING  RAID 

"WHERE  are  they?" 

"Which  way  shall  we  shoot?" 

Joe  and  Blake  questioned  thus  by  turn  as  they 
leaped  to  Hank's  side.  They  were  in  darkness 
now,  for  the  cowboy  had  ceased  shooting,  and 
those  who  had  come  to  attack  had  likewise  al- 
lowed their  weapons  to  become  silent.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  Hank  Selby  had  only  fired  in  the 
air,  if  possible  to  frighten  off  the  Indians,  and 
it  seemed  that  the  redmen  had  done  the  same, 
since  there  was  no  whine  of  bullets  over  the  head 
of  the  guide. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Blake,  fingering  the  rifle 
he  had  caught  up  as  he  rushed  from  the  tent. 

"Indians,"  replied  Hank,  in  a  low  voice.  "It's 
probably  some  band  of  Moquis  or  Navajos,  who 
escaped  being  rounded  up  as  the  others  were. 
Probably  they  were  chased  so  hard,  or  were  so 
surprised  at  one  of  their  camps,  that  they  had 


A  DARING  RAID  13 

to  leave  without  their  ponies.  And  they  do  hate 
to  walk.  They  saw  our  animals  and  tried  to  get 
'em,  but  I  was  suspicious  all  along." 

"But  where  are  they  now?"  asked  Joe,  peer- 
ing out  into  the  darkness.  "I  can't  see  a  thing, 
and  our  animals  seem  to  be  all  there." 

"The  beggars  dropped  down,  and  are  hiding," 
said  the  cowboy.  "They  didn't  like  the  quick  way 
I  fired  on  'em,  I  guess;  though,  land  knows!  I 
don't  want  to  hurt  any  of  'em  if  I  can  help  it. 
They  don't  know  just  what  to  do,  and  they're 
biding  their  time." 

"Did  they  get  any  of  our  horses — or  things?" 
asked  Blake,  anxiously,  his  thoughts  on  the  valu- 
able films. 

"Not  as  yet,"  replied  Hank.  "But  this  thing 
isn't  over  with.  They'll  come  back,  once  they 
decide  it's  worth  while.  We've  got  to  get  ready 
for  'em." 

"How?"  asked  Blake. 

"Well,  we've  got  to  pile  our  stuff  up  as  a  sort 
of  shelter,  and  then  we've  got  to  bring  in  the 
animals.  It  won't  do  to  have  the  imps  run  off 
with  'em,  and  that's  what  they're  aiming  to  do." 

"But  won't  it  be  risky  to  go  out  there  in  the 
darkness  to  bring  in  the  ponies  and  burros?" 
asked  Joe.  "You  say  the  Indians  are  concealed 
out  there." 


I4    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"So  I  believe  they  are,"  replied  Hank.  "But 
I  fancy  my  shooting  drove  'em  back  a  bit,  even 
though  I  did  fire  in  the  air,  or  so  high  over  their 
heads  that  they  couldn't  be  harmed.  So  I  guess 
we  can  make  a  move  out  there  without  getting 
hurt.  Anyhow,  it's  got  to  be  done,  and,  as  I  know 
more  about  such  business  than  you  boys,  having 
been  at  it  longer,  I'll  just  attend  to  that.  You'd 
better  make  the  best  sort  of  breastworks  you  can. 
For,  though  I  don't  believe  these  beggars  will 
actually  shoot  to  hurt,  still  it's  best  to  be  on  the 
safe  side.  Be  cautious,  now." 

•  And,  while  Hank  is  thus  preparing  to  secure 
the  pack  and  saddle  animals,  and  the  boys  to 
gather  the  boxes  and  bales  into  a  compact  mass, 
I  will  take  just  a  few  moments  to  tell  you  more 
about  the  moving  picture  lads  than  I  have  yet 
done. 

In  the  first  book  of  this  series,  entitled  "The 
Moving  Picture  Boys ;  Or,  The  Perils  of  a  Great 
City  Depicted,"  I  introduced  to  you  Joe  Duncan 
and  Blake  Stewart.  At  that  time  they  lived  in 
the  village  of  Fayetteburg,  in  the  central  part  of 
New  York  State.  Blake  worked  on  the  farm  of 
his  uncle,  Jonathan  Haverstraw,  while  Joe  was 
hired  boy  for  Zachariah  Bradley.  And  it  hap- 
pened that  they  both  lost  their  places  at  the  same 
time. 


A  DARING  RAID  15 

Blake's  uncle  decided  to  retire  to  a  Home  for 
the  Aged,  and  Mr.  Bradley  said  he  could  no 
longer  afford  to  pay  Joe  any  wages.  The  boys 
did  not  know  what  to  do  until  they  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Mr.  Calvert  Hadley,  a  moving 
picture  photographer.  The  latter  had  come  to 
Fayetteburg  with  a  theatrical  company  to  get 
some  views  in  a  country  drama  that  was  being 
enacted,  some  of  the  scenes  being  laid  in  the 
nearby  city  of  Syracuse. 

Blake  and  Joe  watched  a  mimic  rescue  scene  in 
the  creek,  thinking  it  real,  and  later  Mr.  Hadley 
offered  them  work  as  his  assistants  in  New  York. 
He  was  employed  by  the  Film  Theatrical  Com- 
pany, to  make  its  moving  pictures. 

The  boys  jumped  at  the  chance.  Before  the 
little  country  drama  was  over,  however,  an 
accident  occurred,  in  full  view  of  the  moving 
picture  camera.  Mrs.  Betty  Randolph,  a  wealthy 
Southern  lady,  was  run  into,  while  riding  in  her 
carriage,  by  a  reckless  autoist.  Airs.  Randolph 
offered  a  reward  for  the  arrest  of  this  man,  who 
escaped  in  the  confusion,  and  urged  the  two  boys 
to  try  to  effect  his  capture. 

They  said  they  would,  and  how  they  went  to 
New  York,  learned  the  moving  picture  business, 
and  helped  Mr.  Hadley  get  films  for  his  "moving 


l6    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

picture  newspaper,"  is  all  set  down  in  the  first 
book. 

The  perils  of  taking  views  in  a  great  city,  at 
fires,  elevated  railroad  accidents,  burning  vessels, 
^of  divers  at  work,  in  making  educational  films — 
'all  this  is  told. 

Eventually,  while  making  scenes  at  a  thrilling 
balloon  ascension,  Joe  and  Blake  discovered  the 
reckless  autoist  and  gave  chase  in  a  car.  They 
caught  him,  too,  and  got  the  reward,  with  which 
they  purchased  some  moving  picture  cameras,  and 
went  into  business  on  their  own  account.  They 
made  films  to  order,  and  were  often  employed  by 
Mr.  Hadley  or  by  Mr.  Ringold,  head  of  the  Film 
Theatrical  Company. 

This  company  consisted  of  a  number  of  actors 
and  actresses  who  were  engaged  to  enact  various 
sorts  of  plays  and  dramas  before  the  camera. 

Among  them  was  Henry  Robertson,  who  did 

"juvenile  leads"  ;  Harris  Levinberg,  the  "villain" ; 

Miss  Nellie  Shay,  the  leading  lady,   and  Miss 

Birdie  Lee,  who  did  girls'  parts.     Last,  but  not 

*  least,  was  Christopher  Cutler  Piper — known  vari- 

.  ously  as  "C.  C."  or  "Gloomy."    He  preferred  to 

be  called  just  C.  C.,  not  liking  his  two  first  names, 

but  he  was  so  often  looking  on  the  dark  side  of 

life,  and  predicting  direful  happenings  that  never 

came  to  pass,  that  he  was  often  dubbed  "Gloomy." 


A  DARING  RAID  17 

However,  he  was  the  comedian  of  the  troupe,  and 
could  utter  the  most  unhappy  expressions  while 
doing  the  most  comical  acting. 

It  was  not  all  easy  sailing  for  the  two  lads. 
One  man — James  Munson,  a  rival  moving  picture , 
proprietor — often   made  trouble   for  them,   and 
once  put  them  in  no  little  danger. 

After  having  helped  Mr.  Hadley  make  a  success 
of  his  moving  picture  newspaper,  by  means  of 
which  current  happenings,  and  accidents,  were 
nightly  thrown  on  a  screen  in  various  theatres, 
Joe  and  Blake,  as  I  said,  went  into  business  for 
themselves. 

In  the  second  volume  of  the  series,  entitled 
"The  Moving  Picture  Boys  in  the  West;  Or, 
Taking  Scenes  Among  the  Cowboys  and  Indians," 
our  heroes  had  an  entirely  different  series  of 
adventures. 

Mr.  Ringold  decided  to  take  his  theatrical 
troupe  to  Arizona,  there  to  make  films  for  a  num- 
ber of  Western  dramas.  He  asked  the  boys  if 
they  would  like  to  join  Mr.  Hadley  in  doing  this 
work.  At  the  same  time  a  New  York  scientific 
society,  engaged  in  preserving  records,  pictures 
and  photographic  reproductions  of  the  Indians, 
made  a  prize  offer  for  the  best  film  showing  the 
redmen  in  their  ceremonial  dances.  The  time  was 
particularly  ripe  for  this,  as  a  band  of  the  Moquis, 


18    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

as  well  as  several  tribes  of  Navajos,  had  broken 
from  the  government  reservations  to  indulge  in 
their  strange  rites. 

v  As  the  boys  found  that  they  could  do  the  two 
things — take  the  views  of  the  Indians,  and  make 
the  theatrical  pictures — they  accepted  the  offer. 

Just  before  they  left,  however,  Joe  received  a 
strange  letter.  It  was  from  a  man  signing  him- 
self Sam  Houston  Reed,  who  stated  that  he  had 
met  a  man  who  was  looking  for  a  Joe  Duncan. 
Joe,  who  had  known  there  was  some  mystery 
about  his  early  life,  was  overjoyed  at  the  prospect 
of  finding  some  "folks,"  and  wished  very  much 
to  meet  Mr.  Reed.  But  the  latter  had  neglected 
to  date,  or  put  any  heading  on  his  letter.  All 
there  was  to  go  by  was  part  of  a  postmark,  which 
showed  it  came  from  Arizona,  and  Mr.  Reed  also 
mentioned  Big  B  ranch. 

However,  the  moving  picture  boys  and  the 
theatrical  company  started  West.  On  the  way 
the  boys  had  a  glimpse  of  their  rivals,  also  hasten- 
ing to  get  the  Indian  views. 

How  they  got  to  Flagstaff,  made  many  views 
there,  and  then  how  Joe  and  Blake  started  to  find 
the  place  where  the  runaway  Indians  were  hidden 
away,  doing  their  mysterious  dances — all  this  is 
told  in  the  second  volume. 

Eventually  they  reached  Big  B  ranch,  only  to 


A  DARING  RAID  19 

find  that  Mr.  Reed,  like  a  rolling  stone,  had  gone. 
However,  some  of  the  cowboys  remembered  him, 
and  had  heard  him  talk  of  having  met  a  certain 
Bill  Duncan,  whose  half-brother,  Nate,  was  look- 
ing for  a  lost  son.  It  was  supposed  that  this 
Nate  Duncan  was  Joe's  father. 

As  nothing  toward  finding  Mr.  Duncan  could 
then  be  done,  Joe  and  Blake  kept  on  toward  the 
Indian  country.  A  cowboy,  Hank  Selby,  offered 
to  accompany  them,  and  they  \vere  glad  he  did. 

They  had  many  adventures  before  getting  on 
the  track  of  the  Indians,  and  when  they  found 
them  in  a  secret  valley,  and,  concealed  in  a  cave, 
began  taking  moving  pictures,  they  discovered, 
as  I  have  said,  four  white  men  in  danger  of 
torture. 

How  they  rescued  them,  how  the  troopers  came, 
and  how  one  turned  out  to  be  Bill  Duncan,  Joe's 
half-uncle,  I  have  mentioned  in  this  book  as  well 
as  in  the  second  volume.  And,  on  their  way  back 
to  Big  B  ranch  and  to  Flagstaff,  the  night  attack 
had  taken  place. 

"How  are  you  making  out,  Blake?"  asked  Joe, 
as  he  worked  at  stacking  up  the  boxes  and  bales 
into  a  sort  of  rude  breastwork  near  the  shelter 
tents. 

"All  right,  Joe,"  was  the  answer.  "I  hope 
Hank  makes  the  animals  safe." 


20    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  be  having  much  trouble. 
I  can't  see  any  of  the  Indians  now." 

"No,  they're  probably  hiding  down  in  the  grass, 
.waiting  for  a  chance  to  make  a  raid.  I  wonder 
,how  many  there  are  ?" 

"Quite  a  bunch,  I  should  say,  from  the  shoot- 
ing. Here  comes  Hank  now." 

As  he  spoke,  the  cowboy  appeared,  leading  by 
their  long  tether  ropes  the  riding  ponies  and  the 
pack  animals.  The  steeds  showed  signs  of  their 
recent  excitement.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  alarm 
they  gave  they  might  have  been  stolen  without 
our  friends  being  any  the  wiser. 

"See  any  of  'em,  Hank?"  questioned  Joe. 

"No,  but  they're  there,  all  right.  Boys,  there 
may  be  some  hot  work  ahead  of  us.  You  want 
to  get  ready  for  it." 

"Do — do  you  think  they'll  shoot?"  asked  Blake. 

"Well,  they'll  do  their  best  to  get  our  things 
away  from  us,"  was  the  answer.  "They're  des- 
perate, I'm  afraid." 

Hank  busied  himself  tethering  the  steeds  nearer 
the  temporary  camp,  while  Joe  and  Blake  finished 
their  labors  in  building  a  defense  against  the  pos- 
sible rush  of  the  redmen. 

This  was  hardly  finished,  and  they  had  scarcely 
collected  a  pile  of  brush  to  make  a  bright  fire, 
if  necessary,  when  there  arose  all  around  fierce 


*A  DARING  RAID  21 

ehouts.  At  the  same  time  there  was  a  fusillade 
of  shots;  but,  as  far  as  could  be  seen,  all  the 
Indians  were  firing  in  the  air. 

"Look  out !"  yelled  Hank.  "They're  going  to 
rush  us !" 

Before  he  ceased  speaking  there  was  the  sound 
of  many  feet  running  forward.  The  shooting  and 
shouting  redoubled  in  volume,  and  the  restless 
animals  tried  to  break  loose. 

"The  imps!"  cried  Hank.  "They're  trying  to 
stampede  our  animals,  just  as  they  did  the  cattle 
that  time.  Look  out,  boys !" 

But  nothing  could  be  done  against  such  num- 
bers. The  camp  was  overwhelmed  in  a  daring 
raid,  and  though  the  boys  and  Hank  did  all  they 
could,  firing  wildly  in  the  air,  they  could  not  stand 
off  the  attack.  Strangely  enough,  no  effort  was 
made  to  mistreat  the  boys  or  their  companion. 
The  Indians  simply  rushed  over  them  and  made 
for  the  pile  of  goods  in  the  rear  of  the  tents. 
They  did  not  even  seem  to  be  after  the  horses. 

"Stop  'em !"  cried  Blake.  "They'll  take  all  our 
things !" 

"Our  cameras !"  yelled  Joe.  "They  may  break 
'em!" 

Hank  had  all  he  could  do  to  restrain  the  wild 
steeds,  which  sought  to  break  loose. 

The  rush  was  over  almost  as  quickly  as  it  had 


22    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

started.  Off  into  the  darkness  disappeared  the 
Indians,  their  shooting  and  yelling  growing 
fainter  and  fainter. 

"I  saved  the  horses!"  cried  Hank. 

"Yes,  but  they  got  a  lot  of  our  stuff!"  ex- 
claimed Blake.  "Joe,  throw  some  wood  on  the 
fire,  so  we  can  see  what  is  missing!" 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   PURSUIT 

BLAZING  up  brightly,  after  Joe  had  thrown 
some  light  sticks  on  the  embers,  the  fire  revealed 
a  much  disordered  camp.  The  Indians  had 
rushed  over  it  as  a  squad  of  football  players  might 
tear  through  a  rival  eleven,  leaving  devastation  in 
their  wake.  The  only  consolation  was  that  Hank 
had  managed  to  prevent  the  animals  from  stam- 
peding, and  the  possession  of  their  ponies,  in  a 
country  where  foot  travel  is  almost  out  of  the 
question,  was  a  big  factor. 

"But  they  got  almost  everything  else,"  said 
Blake,  as  he  looked  about  the  temporary  camp. 

"They  made  for  the  grub,  that's  sure,"  spoke 
Joe.  "I  guess  they  were  hungry." 

"But  why  they  didn't  try  harder  to  make  off 
with  the  horses  is  what  I  can't  understand,"  spoke 
Blake,  as  he  continued  to  make  an  examination 
of  the  damage  done.  "I  thought  that  was  what 
they  were  after." 

23 


24    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"They  were,"  declared  Hank ;  "but  I  guess  they 
realized  that  taking  horses  is  a  pretty  serious 
crime  out  here.  They  knew  that  all  sorts  of 
efforts  would  be  made  to  recapture  'em,  and  by 
•men  who  would  not  be  as  gentle  with  'em  as 
Uncle  Sam's  soldiers.  So  I  guess  they  decided 
to  pass  up  the  horses  and  only  take  some  grub. 
That  isn't  so  serious,  especially  as  the  poor  beg- 
gars are  probably  well-nigh  starving,  having  been 
away  from  their  regular  rations  so  long.  Well, 
it  might  be  worse,  I  suppose.  They  will  hardly 
come  back  to-night,  and  I  guess  we  can  get  a  little 
rest  when  I  picket  these  animals  out  again.  We 
got  off  pretty  lucky,  I  take  it,  for  there  was  sure 
a  big  bunch  of  them." 

"Lucky?"  cried  Blake.  "I  should  say  not. 
Look  here!"  and  he  pointed  to  the  upset  pile  of 
boxes  and  bales,  only  a  few  of  which  were  now 
left.  "We  have  had  the  worst  kind  of  bad  luck !" 

"How's  that  ?"  demanded  Joe,  hurrying  to  the 
side  of  his  chum.  The  fire  was  brighter  now. 
"What  did  they  take?" 

"Our  reels  of  exposed  film,  for  one  thing!" 
cried  Blake. 

"What!  Not  our  prize  Indian  pictures?" 
gasped  Joe. 

"That's  what  they  did,  Joe!  Every  one  of 
those  films  we  worked  so  hard  to  get  is  gone !" 


THE  PURSUIT  2$ 

"But  what  could  the  Indians  want  with  them  ?" 
asked  Joe.  "They  don't  know  how  to  develop 
'em,  and,  even  if  they  did,  they  would  be  of  no  use. 
They  can't  know  what  they  are,  but  if  the  least  ray 
'  of  light  gets  into  the  boxes  it  means  that  the  films 
are  ruined !" 

"That's  right,"  assented  Blake,  hopelessly. 
"What  can  we  do?" 

"They  probably  didn't  know  they  were  taking 
your  films,  boys,"  spoke  Hank,  who  had  finished 
making  fast  the  horses.  "They  very  likely 
thought  the  boxes  held  some  new  kind  of  food, 
and  they  just  grabbed  up  anything  they  could  get 
their  hands  on.  I  reckon  the  beggars  are  nearly 
starving,  and  that's  what  made  'em  so  bold. 
You'll  notice  they  didn't  once  fire  at  us — only  up 
in  the  air.  They  just  wanted  to  scare  us." 

"And  they  took  our  films,  thinking  they  were 
something  good  to  eat,"  murmured  Blake. 

"Yes.  I'm  not  saying,  though,  that  they  didn't 
hope  to  stampede  the  animals;  but  they  went 
wrong  on  that  calculation,  if  they  had  it  in  mind." 

"They  have  our  films,"  continued  Joe,  in  a  sort 
of  daze,  so  suddenly  had  the  events  of  the  last 
half-hour  occurred.  "What  can  we  do?" 

"Chase  after  'em  and  get  our  stuff  back!"  ex- 
claimed Blake,  quickly.  "I'm  not  going  to  stand 
that  loss.  They  can  have  the  grub  if  they  want 


26    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

it,  but  I'm  going  to  get  back  those  films  that  we 
went  to  such  trouble,  and  so  much  danger,  to 
snap." 

"But  how  are  you  going  to  do  it?"  asked  Joe.  t 

"Start  in  pursuit !"  cried  his  chum  with  energy. 
"Come  on,  Hank,  you  can  follow  an  Indian  trail ; 
can't  you?" 

"I  sure  can,  when  it's  as  broad  as  the  one  they'll 
be  likely  to  leave.  But  not  now." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Blake. 

For  answer  the  cowboy  guide  waved  his  hand 
toward  the  darkness  all  about.  There  seemed  to 
be  a  haze  over  the  sky,  obscuring  the  stars 

"It  would  be  worse  than  useless  to  start  out  on 
the  chase  now,"  said  Hank.  "We  can't  do  any- 
thing until  morning." 

"But  they'll  be  too  far  away  then,"  objected 
Blake.  "And,  while  it  might  do  little  harm  if 
they  opened  those  film  boxes  in  the  darkness,  it 
sure  would  spoil  every  picture  we  took  to  have 
them  exposed  in  daylight.  Let's  go  now!"  and  • 
he  started  toward  the  animals. 

"No,"  and  Hank  shook  his  head.  "I  don't 
think  you  need  worry  about  not  catching  those 
fellers  in  daylight,"  he  went  on.  "They  won't  go 
far  before  stopping  to  eat  the  stuff  they  took  from 
us.  Then  they'll  have  a  sleep  and  start  on  the  trail 
by  daylight.  We  can  do  the  same,  and  I  think 


THE  PURSUIT  27 

we  can  catch  up  with  them.  It  would  be  risky 
to  start  out  at  night  in  a  country  we  know  so  little 
about.  We'll  have  to  wait." 

Blake  sighed,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  The 
upset  camp  was  put  in  some  kind  of  shape,  the 
horses  were  again  looked  to,  and  the  fire  once 
more  replenished.  The  travelers  carried  an  un- 
usually large  supply  of  provisions,  and  though 
most  of  these  had  been  taken,  there  was  still 
enough  food  left  for  a  day  or  two.  In  that  time 
they  might  be  able  to  get  more,  if  they  could  not 
recapture  their  own  from  the  Indians. 

"We'll  start  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  as 
soon  as  it  is  light  enough  to  see,"  decided  Hank. 
"And  now,  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you  boys,  I'm 
going  to  have  a  bite  to  eat.  That  excitement  made 
me  hungry." 

"Same  here,"  confessed  Joe,  and  soon  they  were 
all  satisfying  their  appetites. 

"Oh,  but  I  do  hope  we  can  catch  up  with  them 
and  take  those  films  away  from  'em,"  murmured 
Blake,  as  he  again  sought  his  tent. 

"We  will,"  declared  Joe,  with  conviction.  "If 
we  have  to,  I'll  get  word  to  my  soldier  uncle  and 
have  the  troops  chase  'em." 

"The  only  trouble  is  that  it  might  be  too  late," 
spoke  Blake.  "I'm  afraid  of  the  films  getting 


28    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

light-struck.  But  I  guess  all  we  can  do  is  to  wait 
and  trust  to  luck." 

There  was  no  further  alarm  that  night,  and 
after  a  hasty  breakfast,  eaten  when  it  was  hardly 
light  enough  to  see,  the  remaining  supplies  and 
provisions  were  packed  and  the  ponies  saddled. 

"I  guess  we  can  start  now,"  exclaimed  Hank, 
as  he  leaped  to  his  steed.  "It  will  soon  be  lighter. 
Forward,  march !" 


CHAPTER  IV 


"WELL,  we  haven't  caught  up  to  'em  yet,'*  re- 
marked Joe  Duncan,  about  noon  the  next  day, 
when  they  stopped  for  a  little  lunch  and  to  allow 
the  horses  to  drink  at  a  water  hole  and  rest. 

"No,  the  beggars  keep  well  ahead  of  us,"  agreed 
Blake,  shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  gazing 
off  across  the  hot,  sunlit  stretch  that  lay  before 
them.  "Oh,  if  they  have  opened  those  film  boxes !" 
he  exclaimed  hopelessly. 

"They  have  ponies,  and  that's  more  than  I  cal- 
culated on,"  remarked  Hank.  "I  thought  when 
they  raided  our  camp  that  they  were  after  our 
animals,  and  when  they  didn't  take  'em  I  thought 
it  was  because  they  were  afraid  of  being  chased 
as  horse-thieves  by  a  sheriff's  posse.  Now  I  see 
they  didn't  want  our  mounts,  as  they  had  plenty 
of  their  own.  It  was  grub  they  were  after,  and 
they  got  it." 

"And  our  picture  films,"  added  Blake.  "Don't 
forget  that." 


jp    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"That  was  only  a  mistake,  I  tell  you,"  in- 
sisted Hank,  "though,  for  that  matter,  the  Indians 
wouldn't  hesitate  to  take  'em  just  for  fun,  if  they 
thought  they  could  make  trouble  that  way." 

"And  they  will  make  a  heap  of  trouble,  too, 
I'm  afraid,"  spoke  Blake. 

"Here  now!"  called  Joe,  in  jollier  tones. 
"Don't  come  any  of  that  C.  C.  Piper  business, 
Blake.  Look  on  the  bright  side." 

"Well,  I  suppose  I  ought  to,  but  it's  hard 
work." 

.  They  had  traveled  all  that  morning,  hoping  to 
come  up  with  the  roving  band  of  Indians.  But 
they  had  had  no  success. 

Hank  did  pick  up  the  trail  of  the  raiders  soon 
after  starting  out.  The  Indians  had  left  their 
horses  tethered  some  distance  from  the  camp,  and 
had  crept  up  afoot,  probably  having  spied  Blake, 
Joe  and  Hank  from  afar  the  previous  evening. 
And  though  the  moccasined  feet  of  the  savages 
left  little  trace  on  the  hard  and  sun-baked  earth, 
there  was  enough  "sign"  for  so  experienced  a 
trailer  as  was  Hank  to  pick  up. 

Thus  he  had  been  led  to  where  the  horses  had 
been  left,  and  after  that  it  was  easy  enough  to 
follow  the  marks  of  the  hoofs. 

"There  are  about  twenty-five  in  this  band,  as 
near  as  I  can  make  out,"  said  Hank,  "and  erery 


BACK  TO  "BIG  B"  31 

one  of  'em  has  a  horse  of  some  sort.    Pretty  good 
travelers,  too,  I  take  it,  since  our  animals  were 
fresh  and  we  haven't  been  able  to  come  up  to 
'em  yet,  though  we've  kept  up  a  pretty  fair  gait.  y 
But  we'll  get  'em  yet." 

"If  only  it  isn't  too  late,"  spoke  Blake,  whose 
one  fear  was  that  the  valuable  picture  films  would 
be  spoiled.  "Let's  hurry  on." 

"Another  little  rest  will  do  the  horses  good," 
said  the  cowboy  guide.  "Then  we  can  push  on  so 
much  the  faster.  Our  horses  are  our  best  friends, 
and  we've  got  to  treat  'em  right  if  we  want  the 
best  service  out  of  them.  Another  half-hour  and 
we'll  push  on." 

And,  though  Blake  fretted  and  fumed  at  the 
delay,  he  knew  it  would  not  be  best  to  insist  on 
having  his  way.  Soon,  however,  they  were  in  the 
saddle  again  and  once  more  in  pursuit. 

"The  trail  is  getting  fresher,"  declared  Hank, 
about  four  o'clock  that  afternoon.  "Their  horses 
are  tiring,  I  guess,  and  ours  seem  to  be  holding  out 
pretty  well." 

"Which  means "  began  Joe. 

"That  we  may  get  up  to  them  before  dark," 
went  on  the  cowboy.  "And  then  we'll  sec  what 
happens." 

"Will  they  run,  do  you  think?"  inquired  Blake. 

"They  will  as  long  as  their  horses  hold  out,  for 


32    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

they  must  know  that  this  ghost-dance  business  is 
about  over  and  that  most  of  their  friends  are 
back  on  the  reservations.  But  when  we  come  up 

to  them "  and  the  cowboy  paused  and  signifi- 

.cantly  examined  his  revolver. 

"Does  it  mean  a  fight?"  went  on  Blake,  and  he 
could  not  restrain  a  catch  in  his  breath.  It  was 
one  thing  to  have  an  Indian  fight  with  some  shel- 
ter, but  different  out  in  the  open. 

"Well,  I  hardly  think  it  will  be  what  you  might 
call  regular  and  up-to-date  fighting,"  replied 
Hank.  "They  may  fire  their  guns  and  revolvers 
at  us  to  try  and  frighten  us  back,  but  I  don't 
actually  believe  that  they'll  make  trouble.  They 
know  the  punishment  would  be  too  serious.  And 
I  believe  a  lot  of  those  Indians  have  only  blank 
cartridges  that  they  had  when  they  were  in  some 
Wild  West  show.  I  know  there  was  mighty  little 
whining  of  bullets,  for  all  the  shooting  they  did 
last  night.  But,  at  the  same  time,"  he  went  on, 
"it's  best  to  be  prepared  for  emergencies." 

They  continued  on,  and  the  boys  had  now  be- 
come so  used  to  the  signs  of  the  Indian  trail  that 
they  could  note  the  changes  almost  as  well  as 
could  Hank. 

Here  they  could  see  where  a  rest  was  made, 
and  again  where  some  animal  went  out  of  the 
beaten  path.  Bits  of  the  Indians'  finery,  too, 


BACK  TO  "BIG  B"  33 

were  noted  every  once  in  a  while — a  bit  of  gaudy 
bead  trimming,  a  discarded  moccasin  or  some 
dyed  feathers. 

"I  do  hope  we  come  up  with  them  before  dark/' , 
said  Joe.     "If  we  have  to  stay  out  on  the  trail  ( 
all  night,  and  part  of  next  day,  we  may  find  noth- 
ing left  of  our  things  and  the  pack  burros  when 
we  reach  camp  again." 

In  order  to  make  better  time  our  friends  had 
left  behind,  at  the  place  where  the  Indians  had 
raided  them,  the  pack  animals,  their  cameras,  a 
few  films  not  taken  by  the  Indians,  and  as  much 
of  their  provisions  as  they  thought  would  not  be 
needed  on  the  trail.  . 

"I  think  this  evening  will  end  it,"  declared 
Hank.  "We  might  push  on  a  little  faster,  as  the 
going  is  good  right  here." 

The  horses  were  urged  to  greater  speed,  and 
they  responded  gamely.  They  seemed  to  realize 
the  necessity  for  haste,  and  took  advantage  of  the 
momentary  betterment  in  the  surface  over  which 
they  were  traveling. 

The  sun  was  sinking  lower  and  lower  in  the 
west  and  the  shadows  were  lengthening.  Eagerly 
the  boys  and  the  cowboy  scout  peered  ahead, 
straining  their  eyes  for  a  glimpse  of  those  whom 
they  were  pursuing.  Then  there  came  a  bit  of 
rough  ground,  and  the  pace  was  slower.  Next 


34 

followed  a  little  rise,  and,  as  this  was  topped, 
Blake,  who  had  taken  the  lead  for  a  short  dis- 
tance, uttered  a  cry  and  pointed  forward  with 
eager  hand. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Joe  and  Hank  together. 
1     "There  they  are !"  yelled  Blake.    "The  Indians ! 
Right  below  us !    Come  on !" 

Riding  to  his  side,  the  others  saw  a  sharp  de- 
scent, then  a  level  plain  stretching  away  for 
many  miles.  And  moving  slowly  over  this  plain 
was  a  band  of  about  twenty-five  Indians,  mounted 
on  ponies  that  seemed  scarcely  able  to  move. 

That's  them !"  cried  Hank,  as  he  dug  his  heels 
into  the  sides  of  his  horse.  "At  'em,  boys!  A 
short,  swift  gallop  will  bring  us  up  to  'em  now, 
and  then — well,  we'll  see  what  will  happen!" 

"Come  on !"  yelled  Blake,  and  side  by  side  the 
trio  rode  down  into  the  valley,  their  animals  seem- 
ing to  take  on  new  strength  as  they  saw  their 
quarry  before  them. 

"They've  noticed  us!"  exclaimed  Blake. 

"That's  right !"  agreed  Hank.  "Well,  now  to 
see  if  we  can  catch  'em!" 

A  movement  amid  the  stragglers  of  the  band 
told  that  they  had  glimpsed  the  approach  of  the 
whites.  There  was  a  distant  shout,  and  at  once 
the  whole  party  was  galloping  off. 


VACK  TO  "BIG  B*  35 

"They'll  distance  us!"  cried  Blalce.  "Tfie/re 
going  to  get  away!" 

"Not  very  far,"  was  Hank's  opinion.  "Their 
horses  are  about  done  up.  This  is  a  last  spurt." 

His  trained  eye  had  shown  him  that  the  Indians 
were  using  quirts  and  their  heels  to  spur  the  tired 
animals  to  a  last  burst  of  speed.  True,  the  ponies 
did  leap  ahead  for  a  few  minutes ;  but  not  even  the 
wild  shouting  of  the  redmen,  the  frantic  beating 
of  their  steeds,  and  the  firing  of  their  guns  could 
make  the  wearied  muscles  of  the  ponies  respond 
for  long. 

The  spurt  lasted  only  a  few  seconds,  and  then 
came  a  noticeable  slowing  down.  On  the  contrary, 
the  horses  of  our  friends,  though  they  had  trav- 
eled far  and  hard,  were  in  better  condition  and 
much  fresher. 

"Come  on !"  cried  Hank,  rising  in  his  stirrups 
and  swinging  his  hat  around  his  head,  while  he 
sent  forth  yells  of  defiance.  "Come  on,  boys! 
We  have  'em !" 

He,  too,  began  to  shoot,  but  in  the  air  as  ba- 
fore,  and  the  boys  followed  his  example.  Their 
horses  were  shortening  the  distance  between  the 
two  parties. 

Suddenly  one  of  the  Indians  was  observed  to 
toss  something  from  him.  It  fell  to  the  ground 
and  rolled  to  one  side  of  the  trail. 


36    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"What's  that?"  cried  Joe. 

"One  of  the  boxes  of  exposed  film!"  cried 
Blake.  "They  know  what  we're  after.  Oh,  if 
only  it  isn't  damaged!" 

"We  can  soon  tell!"  cried  Hank,  taking  the 
lead.  Then  he  yelled,  between  reports  of  his 
revolver : 

"Hi  there!  you  red  beggars,  give  up!  Drop 
that  stuff  you  took  from  our  camp !  You  haven't 
any  of  the  grub  left,  I  suppose,  but  we  want  those 
pictures!  Drop  'em!" 

Whether  his  talk  was  understood,  or  not,  was 
not  known ;  but  others  of  the  Indians  began  toss- 
ing away  either  boxes  of  film  or  other  things — 
aside  from  food — which  they  had  taken  from  the 
camp.  They  never  stopped  their  horses,  though, 
but  ever  urged  on  the  tired  beasts. 

"Here's  the  first  reel !"  cried  Blake,  as  he  came 
up  to  where  it  lay.  Quickly  dismounting,  he 
picked  it  up. 

"Not  hurt  a  bit !"  he  cried  exultantly ;  "and  the 
seals  haven't  been  broken,  showing  that  it  hasn't 
been  opened." 

"Good !"  cried  Hank.  "You  go  slow  and  pick 
up  what  you  can,  and  Joe  and  I  will  chase  after 
the  Indians.  Evidently  they're  going  to  run 
for  it." 

And  it  did  seem  so.    The  Indians  never  paused, 


BACK  TO  "BIG  B"  37 

but  continued  to  toss  away  article  after  article. 
They  seemed  afraid  of  the  consequences  should 
they  be  caught  with  anything  belonging  to  the 
whites  in  their  possession.  They  may  have  taken 
Hank  and  the  boys  for  the  advance-guard  of  a 
sheriff's  posse,  and,  knowing  they  had  been  doing 
wrong,  were  afraid.  At  any  rate  they  made  no 
stand. 

"I've  got  'em  all !"  finally  yelled  Blake. 

"Then  there's  no  use  chasing  after  'em  any 
farther,"  said  Hank.  "Hold  on,  Joe,"  for  the 
boy  was  pushing  on. 

The  horses  of  the  pursuers  were  pulled  down 
to  a  walk.  The  Indians  noticed  this  at  once,  and, 
seeming  to  realize  that  the  chase  was  over,  they 
halted,  and,  turning,  gazed  in  a  body  at  the  mov- 
ing picture  boys  and  their  cowboy  guide. 

"Had  enough,  I  reckon,"  murmured  Hank.  "I 
guess  you  can't  go  on  much  farther.  Well,  we'll 
turn  back  a  ways  and  put  some  miles  between 
us,  so  you  won't  try  any  of  your  tricks  again,  and 
then  we'll  go  into  camp  ourselves.  Got  every- 
thing, Blake?" 

"Yes,  every  reel  of  film,  and  not  one  has  been 
opened,  by  good  luck.  Maybe  they  thought  it  was 
powerful  'medicine,'  and  didn't  want  to  run  any 
chances." 

"We  don't  care,  as  long  as  we  have  'em  back," 


38    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

remarked  Joe,  gleefully.    "And  now  for  a  good 
rest." 

They  turned  back,  and  as  they  did  so  the  In- 
dians gave  a  last  shout  of  defiance  and  began  to; 
make  camp  for  themselves.  It  was  as  if  a  lot  of 
schoolboys,  playing  truant,  had  been  rounded  up, 
and  as  a  last  indication  of  defiance  had  given  their 
class  yell. 

"Good  riddance  to  you,"  remarked  Hank.  "I 
don't  want  to  see  you  again  for  a  good  many 
years." 

Collecting  the  things  the  Indians  had  thrown 
away,  our  friends  rode  on  until  dark,  and  then, 
out  of  sight  of  the  roving  redmen,  they  made  a 
simple  camp.  They  stood  guard  by  turns,  but 
there  was  no  night  alarm.  The  next  day  they 
reached  the  place  where  they  had  picketed  the 
pack  animals.  Nothing  had  been  disturbed. 

"And  now  for  Big  B  ranch !"  exclaimed  Blake, 
when  once  more  the  little  cavalcade  was  under 
way. 

"And  glad  enough  I'll  be  to  see  it !"  said  Hank  ; 
"though  I  sure  will  miss  you  fellows." 

"The  same  here,"  echoed  Joe,  and  Blake 
nodded  in  accord. 

They  traveled  on  for  another  day,  finding  good 
water  and  plenty  of  grazing  for  the  steeds.  Their 
provisions  ran  a  bit  low,  for  the  Indians  had 


BACK  TO  "BIG  B"  35, 

helped  themselves  liberally,  but  they  managed  to 
shoot  some  small  game. 

And,  on  the  second  day  after  parting  from  the 
Indians,  they  topped  a  rise,  from  the  height  of 
which  Hank  cried : 

"There  she  is,  boys!" 

"What?"  asked  Blake. 

"Big  B  ranch!  We're  back  in  civilization 
again !" 


CHAPTER  V. 

A    NEW    KIND   OF   DRAMA 

"AND  so  you  really  got  what  you  went  for;  eh, 
boys?"  asked  Mr.  Alden,  proprietor  of  Big  B 
ranch,  as  the  trio  rode  in.  "Well,  you  had  luck." 

"Both  kinds — good  and  bad,"  remarked  Hank, 
as  he  told  how,  after  getting  the  rare  films,  they 
had  nearly  been  lost  again. 

"And  you  rescued  your  enemies,  too?  What 
became  of  Munson  ?" 

"Oh,  he  and  his  crowd  went  off  by  themselves," 
explained  Blake.  "They  felt  badly  about  us  beat- 
ing them." 

"I've  got  a  surprise  for  you,  Joe,"  went  on  the 
proprietor. 

"What  sort?"  asked  the  lad,  eagerly;  "is  my 
father—?" 

"No,   not  that;  but   Sam  Reed  is  back  here' 
again,  and  he  can  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know. 
He  came  the  day  after  you  left." 

"But  I  did  better  than  that!"  exclaimed  Joe. 
*'I  met  my  uncle,  and  I'm  soon  going  to  find  my 

40 


A  NEW  KIND  OF  DRAMA  41 

father,  I  hope,"  and  he  related  his  meeting  with 
the  trooper. 

"Good!"  cried  Mr.  Alden.  "Here  comes  Sam 
now.  I  told  him  you  might  be  along  soon,"  and 
he  turned  to  introduce  a  rather  shiftless-looking 
cowboy  who  sauntered  up. 

"Pleased  to  meet  you,"  said  Sam  Reed.  "I 
never  cal'lated  when  I  writ  that  there  letter  that 
I'd  ever  see  you  in  flesh  and  blood.  I've  got  your 
pictures,  though,"  and  he  showed  those  that  had 
appeared  in  a  magazine,  giving  an  account  of  the 
work  of  Joe  and  Blake. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  Sam  knew  noth- 
ing of  Joe's  father.  The  best  the  cowboy  had 
hoped  to  do  was  to  put  the  boy  on  the  track  of 
Mr.  William  Duncan,  and,  considering  that  Joe's 
uncle,  as  I  shall  call  him — though  he  was  really 
only  a  half-uncle — had  enlisted  in  the  army,  Mr. 
Reed  would  probably  have  had  hard  work  to  carry 
out  his  plans. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  met  your  relative,  any- 
how," said  Sam  to  Joe;  "and  I  wish  you  luck  in 
looking  for  your  father.  So  he's  somewhere  on 
the  southern  California  coast?" 

"Yes,  in  one  of  the  lighthouses,"  explained  Joe. 
"My  uncle  didn't  know  exactly  where,  but  I  can 
easily  find  out  from  the  government  office  when 
I  get  on  the  coast." 


i  The  boys  were  made  welcome  again  at  Big  B 
ranch,  and  talked  over  once  more  the  exciting 
time  that  had  happened  to  them  there  when  the 
Indians  stampeded  the  cattle. 

"Here  are  the  films  you  left  with  me,"  said 
Mr.  Alden,  giving  the  boys  those  they  had  made 
of  the  cattle  stampede  and  of  the  cowboys  doing 
their  stunts.  "And  so  you  got  other  good  ones  ?" 

"Yes,  fine  ones,"  replied  Blake.  "And  we  must 
soon  be  getting  back  to  Flagstaff.  We  have 
stayed  away  longer  than  we  meant  to,  and  Mr. 
Hadley  and  Mr.  Ringold  may  need  our  services." 

But  the  boys  at  the  ranch  would  not  hear  of 
their  starting  for  a  few  days,  and  so  Joe  and 
Blake  stayed  on,  being  royally  entertained.  They 
witnessed  a  round-up  and  the  branding  of  cattle, 
but  could  get  no  pictures,  as  their  films  were  all 
used  up.  However,  the  subjects  had  often  been 
filmed  before,  so  there  was  no  great  regret. 

Then  came  a  time  when  they  had  to  say  fare- 
well, and  they  turned  their  horses'  heads  toward 
Flagstaff.  The  cowboys  gave  them  a  parting 
salute  of  cheers  and  blank  cartridges,  riding^ 
madly  around  meanwhile. 

"It  reminds  me  of  the  Indian  attack,"  said 
Blake. 

"Yes,"  assented  Joe.  "I  wonder  if  we'll  go 
through  another  scare  like  that?" 


A  NEW  KIND  OF  DRAMA  43 

"I  hope  not,"  spoke  his  chum ;  but,  though  they 
did  not  know  it,  they  were  destined  to  face  many 
more  perils  in  the  pursuit  of  their  chosen  calling. 

The  ride  to  Flagstaff  from  Big  B  ranch  was 
without  incident.  It  was  through  a  fairly  well 
settled  part  of  the  country,  as  settlements  go  in 
Arizona,  and  they  made  it  in  good  time.  Joe 
often  talked  about  the  strange  fate  that  had  put 
him  on  the  track  of  his  father. 

"I  wonder  what  kind  of  a  man  he'll  be?"  he 
often  said  to  his  chum. 

"The  best  ever!"  Blake  would  answer;  "that 
is,  if  he's  anything  like  you — and  I  think  he 
must  be." 

'That's  very  nice  of  you,  and  I  hope  he  does 
turn  out  to  be  what  I  wish  him  to  be.  I  can't  even 
picture  him  in  my  mind,  though." 

"Well,  I  should  think  he'd  be  something  like 
your  uncle — even  if  they  were  only  half-brothers." 

"If  he  is,  I  suppose  it  will  be  all  right,  though 
Uncle  Bill  is  a  little  too  wild  to  suit  me.    I'd  want 
my  father  to  be  more  settled  in  life." 
1     "Well,  it  won't  be  a  great  while  before  you 
know,"  consoled  Blake. 

The  boys  received  a  royal  welcome  from  Mr. 
Hadley  and  the  members  of  the  theatrical  troupe. 

"Oh,  but  it's  good  to  see  you  back !"  exclaimed 
Birdie  Lee  to  Blake,  as  she  shook  hands  with 


44    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

him,  and  if  he  held  her  fingers  a  little  longer  than 
was  necessary  I'm  sure  it's  none  of  our  affair. 

"So  you  didn't  get  scalped,  after  all?"  re- 
marked C.  C,  gloomily,  as  he  surveyed  the  boys. 
"Well,  you  will  next  time,  or  else  they  will  hold 
you  as  captives." 

"Oh,  stop  it,  Gloomy!"  called  Miss  Shay. 
"What  do  you  want  to  spoil  their  welcome  for, 
just  as  we  have  a  little  spread  arranged  for 
them  ?"  for  she  had  gotten  one  up  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  on  sighting  the  boys. 

"A  spread,  eh?  Humph,  I  know  I'll  get  in- 
digestion if  I  eat  any  of  it.  Oh,  life  isn't  worth 
living,  anyhow!"  and  he  sighed  heavily  and  pro- 
ceeded to  practice  making  new  comical  faces  at 
himself  in  a  looking-glass. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  boys  are  back,"  said  Mr. 
Ringold  a  little  later  at  the  impromptu  feast,  at 
which  C.  C.  ate  as  much  as  anyone  and  with  seem- 
ingly as  good  an  appetite.  "Yes,"  went  on  the 
theatrical  manager,  "I  shall  need  you  and  Mr. 
Hadley  right  along,  now.  I  am  going  to  produce 
a  new  kind  of  drama." 

"I — er — I'm  afraid  I  can't  be  with  you,"  said 
Joe,  hesitatingly.  "I  am  at  last  on  the  track  of 
my  father,  and  I  must  find  him." 

"Where  is  he?"  asked  Mr.  Ringold,  when  the 
lad  had  told  his  story. 


•A  NEW  KIND  OP  DRAMA  45 

"Somewhere  on  tfee  Southern  California  coast 
In  a  lighthouse — just  where  I  can't  say.  But  I 
am  going  there,  and  so  you  will  hare  to  get  some 
one  else,  Mr.  Ringold,  to  take  my  place.  Blake 
can  stay  here,  of  course,  and  make  moving  pic- 
tures, but  I " 

"I'm  going  with  you,"  said  his  chtan,  simply. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  then  tbe 
theatrical  manager  exclaimed : 

"Well,  say,  this  just  fits  in  all  right  There's 
no  need  for  any  of  us  to  be  separated,  for  I  intend 
taking  my  whole  company  to  the  coast  to  get  a 
new  series  of  sea  dramas.  The  Southern  Cali- 
fornia coast  will  suit  me  as  well  as  any. 

"Joe,  you  can't  shake  me  that  way.  We'll  all 
go  together,  and  you'll  hare  plenty  of  chance  to 
locate  your  father !" 


CHAPTER  VI 

ON   THE   COAST 

THE  announcement  of  Mr.  Ringold  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  silence,  during  which  Joe  and  Blake 
looked  at  each  other.  It  seemed  like  too  much 
good  fortune  to  learn  that  they  would  still  have 
the  company  of  their  friends  in  this  new  quest. 

"Do  you  really  mean  that?"  asked  Joe. 
"You're  not  saying  it  just  to  help  us  out;  are 
you,  Mr.  Ringold?" 

"No.    What  makes  you  think  that?" 

"Because  it  seems  too  good  to  be  true.  I 
wouldn't  like  anything  better  than  to  go  with 
your  company  and  make  pictures." 

"The  same  here,"  added  Blake. 

"And  if,  at  the  same  time,  I  can  locate  my 
father,"  went  on  Joe,  "so  much  the  better,  though 
,1  don't  imagine  I  will  have  any  trouble  finding 
him,  once  I  can  communicate  with  the  govern- 
ment lighthouse  board,  and  learn  where  he  is 
stationed.  They  have  a  list  of  all  employes,  I 
imagine." 


ON  THE  COAST  47 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  spoke  Mr.  Hadley.  "As 
you  say,  it  will  be  easy  to  locate  him.  And,  boys, 
I'm  very  glad  you're  going  to  be  with  us  again. 
I  wouldn't  like  to  break  in  two  new  lads,  and 
we  will  certainly  need  three  photographers  to  take 
all  the  scenes  in  the  sea  dramas  that  are  planned." 

"Will  we  have  to  go  very  far  to  sea?"  asked 
Macaroni,  who  was  among  those  who  had  greeted 
the  moving  picture  boys.  The  lads'  thin  assistant 
had  been  kept  busy  assisting  Mr.  Hadley  while 
they  were  after  the  Indians.  "Because  if  it's  very 
far  out  on  the  ocean  wave  I  don't  believe  I  want 
to  go ;  I'm  very  easily  made  seasick." 

"Oh,  we  can  arrange  to  keep  you  near  shore," 
said  the  theatrical  man,  with  a  laugh. 

"He  may  be  drowned,  even  near  shore,"  put 
in  C.  C,  with  his  most  gloomy  voice;  though 
he  was,  at  the  same  time,  practicing  some  new 
facial  contortions  that  were  sending  the  women 
members  of  the  troupe  into  spasms  of  laughter. 

"Oh,  there  you  go,  Gloomy!"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Hadley.  "First  we  know  you'll  be  saying  we'll 
all  be  smashed  in  a  train  wreck  going  to  the 
coast;  or,  if  not,  that  we'll  be  carried  off  by  a 
tidal  wave  as  soon  as  we  get  there." 

"It  might  happen,"  spoke  the  gloomy  comedian, 
as  though  both  accidents  were  possible  at  the 
same  time. 


48    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"And  it  may  rain — but  not  to-day,"  put  in 
Miss  Shay,  with  a  look  at  the  hot,  cloudless  sky. 

"Then  it's  all  settled/'  went  on  Mr.  Ringold. 
"It  is  understood,  Joe,  that  you  can  have  con- 
siderable time,  if  you  need  it,  to  locate  your 
father.  The  dramas  I  intend  to  film  will  extend 
over  a  considerable  time,  and  they  can  be  made 
whenever  it  is  most  convenient.  After  all,  I  think 
it  is  a  good  thing  that  we  are  going  to  the 
Southern  California  coast.  The  climate  there 
will  be  just  what  we  want,  and  the  sunlight  will 
be  almost  constant." 

"I'm  sure  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Joe. 
"This  trip  after  the  Indian  films  cost  us  more 
than  we  counted  on,  and  we'll  be  glad  of  a  chance 
to  make  more  money.  We're  down  pretty  low; 
aren't  we,  Blake?" 

"I'm  afraid  so.  But  then,  we  may  get  that 
prize  money,  and  that  will  help  a  lot." 

"That's  so,"  put  in  Mr.  Hadley.  "You  had 
better  have  those  films  developed,  and  send  them 
to  the  geographical  society.  I  wouldn't  ship 
them  undeveloped,  for  they  might  be  light- 
struck.  You  were  lucky  the  Indians  didn't  spoil 
them." 

The  boys  decided  to  do  this,  and  during  the 
next  few  days  the  reels  of  moving  pictures  were 
developed,  and  some  positives  printed  from  them. 


ON  THE  COAST  49 

While  the  lads  had  been  after  the  Indians  Mr. 
Ringold  had  sent  for  a  complete,  though  small, 
moving  picture  outfit,  and  with  this  some  of  the 
pictures  were  thrown  on  a  screen. 

"They're  the  finest  I've  ever  seen!"  declared 
Mr.  Hadley,  after  inspecting  them  critically. 
"That  charge  of  the  soldiers  can't  be  beaten,  and 
as  for  the  Indian  dances,  they  are  as  plain  as  if 
we  were  right  on  the  ground.  You'll  get  the 
prize,  I'm  sure;  especially  since  you're  the  only 
ones  who  got  any  views,  as  I  understand  it." 

Mr.  Hadley  proved  a  good  prophet,  for  in  due 
time,  after  the  films  reached  New  York,  came  a 
letter  from  the  geographical  society,  enclosing  a 
substantial  check  for  the  two  boys. 

The  films  were  excellent,  it  was  stated,  and 
just  what  were  needed.  One  other  concern,  aside 
from  Mr.  Munson's,  and  the  one  the  latter  men- 
tioned, which  had  gone  to  Indian  land,  had  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  a  few  views  of  the  Indians  in 
another  part  of  the  State,  but  they  were  nowhere 
near  as  good  as  those  Blake  and  Joe  had  secured 
after  such  trouble  and  risk.  The  attempt  to  get 
phonographic  records  had  been  a  failure,  the  offi- 
cers of  the  society  wrote,  though  another  attempt 
would  be  made  if  ever  the  Indians  again  broke 
from  their  reservations. 


50    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"And  if  they  do,"  spoke  Blake,  "I'm  not  going 
to  chase  after  them." 

"Me,  either,"  decided  Joe.     "I've  had  enough. 

.  Now  the  sooner  we  can  get  to  the  coast  the  better 

'I'll  like  it.     Just  think,  my  father  must  be  as 

anxious  to  see  me  as  I  am  to  find  him;  but  as 

near  as  I  can  understand  it,  he  doesn't  even  know 

that  I  am  alive.    Think  of  that !" 

"It  is  rather  hard,"  said  Blake,  sympathetically. 
"But  it  won't  be  long  now.  I  heard  Mr.  Ringold 
say  we  would  start  soon." 

There  were  a  few  scenes  in  some  of  the  dramas 
enacted  in  Arizona  that  yet  needed  to  be  filmed, 
and  Joe  and  Blake  helped  with  this  work,  Mac- 
aroni assisting  them  and  Mr.  Hadley. 

"And  after  this,  nearly  all  our  work  will  have 
to  do  with  the  sea,"  said  the  theatrical  man.  "I 
want  to  depict  it  in  all  its  phases;  showing  it 
calm,  and  during  a  storm,  the  delights  of  it,  as 
well  as  the  perils  of  the  deep." 

Before  leaving  Flagstaff  it  was  decided  to  give 
a  few  exhibitions  of  some  of  the  moving  pictures, 
so  that  the  residents  there,  and  a  number  of  the 
cowboys  and  Indians  who  had  taken  part  in  the 
plays,  might  see  how  they  looked  on  the  screen. 
A  suitable  building  was  obtained,  and  it  was 
crowded  at  every  performance. 

The  Indians  were  at  first  frightened,  thinking 


ON  THE  COAST  51 

it  was  some  new  and  powerful  kind  of  "medi- 
cine" that  might  have  a  bad  effect  on  them.  With 
one  accord,  when  the  film  the  boys  had  taken, 
showing  the  charge  of  the  soldiers  on  the  Moquis, 
was  put  on,  the  redmen  rushed  from  the  building.  / 
And  it  was  some  time  before  they  could  be  in- 
duced to  return. 

"Say,  there's  my  uncle,  as  plain  as  anything!" 
exclaimed  Joe,  when  the  excitement  had  calmed 
down,  and  the  reel  was  run  over  again.  "There's 
Sergeant  Duncan,  close  to  Captain  Marsh!"  and 
he  indicated  where  the  trooper  was  riding  beside 
the  commander  of  the  cavalry. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Blake,  as  the  pictures 
flickered  over  the  screen,  the  figures  being  almost 
life  size.  "And  he  looks  like  you,  too." 

"I  wonder  if  my  father  looks  like  that?"  said 
Joe,  softly. 

There  were  busy  days  ahead  of  them  all  now, 
and  there  was  much  work  to  be  done  in  trans- 
porting all  the  "properties"  to  the  coast,  and  ar- 
ranging to  move  the  picture  outfit,  the  cameras 
and  the  entire  company.  The  boys  had  little 
leisure,  but  Joe  managed  to  get  a  letter  c/ff  to  the 
government  lighthouse  board,  asking  for  news 
of  his  father,  Nathaniel  Duncan. 

In  reply  he  got  a  communication  stating  that 
a  Air.  Duncan  was  stationed  as  assistant  keeper 


g2    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

at  a  light  near  San  Diego,  and  not  far  from  Point 
Loma. 

"That's  where  we  want  to  head  for,  then,"  said 
Joe,  as  he  talked  the  matter  over  with  his  chum. 
"I  wonder  if  that  will  suit  Mr.  Ringold?" 

It  did,  as  the  theatrical  manager  stated,  when 
the  subject  was  broached  to  him.  Accordingly 
arrangements  were  made  to  ship  everything  there. 

The  day  came  to  bid  farewell  to  Flagstaff, 
which  had  been  the  stopping  place  of  the  theatrical 
troupe  for  several  months.  They  had  made  many 
friends,  and  the  Indians  had  become  so  used  to 
taking  their  parts  in  the  dramas,  and  in  getting 
good  pay  for  it,  that  they  were  very  sorry  to  see 
the  "palefaces"  leave.  So,  too,  were  the  cow- 
boys, many  of  whom  had  become  very  friendly 
with  our  heroes  and  the  theatrical  people. 

"But  we've  got  to  go,"  said  Blake,  as  he  shook 
hands  with  his  acquaintances. 

"Indeed,  if  we  didn't  leave  soon,"  said  Joe, 
*Td  be  tempted  to  start  off  by  myself.  I've  sent 
a  letter  to  my  dad,  telling  him  all  about  how 
strangely  I  found  him,  and  I'm  just  aching  to 
see  him.  I  guess  he'll  be  pretty  well  surprised 
to  get  it." 

"I  should  imagine  so,"  agreed  Blake. 

"One  last  round-up  to  say  good-bye!"  cried 
one  of  the  cowboys,  as  the  party  started  away 


ON  THE  COAST  53 

from  the  quarters  they  had  occupied.  "Every- 
body get  in  on  this.  Whoop  her  up,  boys !" 

He  leaped  to  his  steed,  flourished  his  hat,  and 
began  riding  around  in  a  circle,  firing  his  big 
revolver  at  intervals. 

"That's  the  ticket !"  shouted  the  others,  as  they 
followed  his  example. 

Soon  two  score  of  the  light-hearted  chaps  were 
riding  around  the  little  crowd  of  the  boys  and 
their  friends,  saluting  them,  and  saying  farewell 
in  this  lively  fashion. 

"Whoop  her  up!" 

"Never  say  die !" 

"Come  again,  and  we'll  exterminate  a  whole 
band  of  redskins  for  you !" 

"And  have  a  cattle  stampede  made  to  order 
any  day  you  want !" 

These  were  only  a  few  of  the  many  expres- 
sions from  the  cowboys. 

"Say,  if  they  don't  kill  themselves,  they'll  make 
us  deaf,  with  all  that  noise,"  predicted  C.  C. 

"This  isn't  a  funeral,"  declared  Mr.  Hadley. 
"It's  a  jolly  occasion,  Gloomy  Gus!" 

"Huh!  Jolly?  First  you  know  some  one 
will  be  hurt." 

But  no  one  was,  in  spite  of  the  direful  predic- 
tions, and  soon  the  cowboys  drew  off,  with  final 
shots  from  their  revolvers,  discharging  them  in 


54 

the  air.  The  Indians,  too,  had  their  share  in  the 
farewell,  though  they  were  not  so  demonstrative 
as  were  their  companions. 

"And  now  for  the  coast!"  cried  Blake,  as  they 
reached  the  train. 

"And  my  dad,"  added  Joe,  and  there  was  a 
trace  of  tears  in  his  eyes,  which  he  did  not  at- 
tempt to  conceal.  Blake  knew  just  how  his  chum 
felt,  and  he  found  himself  wishing  that  he,  too, 
was  going  to  find  some  relative.  But  he  knew  the 
only  one  he  had  was  his  aged  uncle. 

Little  of  incident  occurred  on  the  trip  to  San 
Diego,  which  had  been  decided  on  as  headquarters 
until  a  suitable  location,  away  from  any  town, 
could  be  selected  directly  on  the  ocean  beach.  I 
say  little  of  moment,  but  C.  C.  was  continually 
predicting  that  something  would  happen,  from  a 
real  hold-up  to  a  train  wreck. 

"And  if  that  doesn't  happen,  a  bridge  will  go 
go  down  with  us,"  he  said. 

But  nothing  of  the  kind  occurred,  and  finally 
the  boys  and  their  friends  reached  the  coast,  going 
to  the  boarding  place  they  had  engaged. 

"Ar*d  there's  the  old  Pacific!"  exclaimed  Joe, 
as  he  and  Blake  went  down  to  the  shore  of  the 
bay  h  which  San  Diego  stands.  "It  isn't  very 
rough,  however,  and  Mr.  Ringold  said  he  wanted 
tumbling  waves  as  a  background." 


ON  THE  COAST  55 

"It  gets  rough  at  times,  though,"  remarked 
a  fisherman.  "Of  course,  if  you  want  to  see  big 
waves  you'll  have  to  go  beyond  this  bay.  It's 
pretty  well  land-locked.  Oh,  yes,  the  old  Pacific 
isn't  always  as  peaceful  as  her  name." 


CHAPTER  VII 

AT   THE   LIGHTHOUSE 

THE  two  boys  talked  for  some  time  with  the 
old  fisherman,  and  then  Blake  whispered  to  Joe: 

"Why  don't  you  ask  him  where  the  lighthouse 
is  where  your  father  is  supposed  to  be,  and  the 
best  way  of  getting  to  it?" 

"I  will,"  replied  his  chum. 

"The  Rockypoint  light  ?"  repeated  the  fisherman, 
in  response  to  Joe's  inquiry.  "Why  yes,  I  know 
it  well.  It's  only  a  few  miles  from  here.  You 
can  see  her  flash  on  a  clear  night,  but  you  can't 
make  out  the  house  itself,  even  on  a  clear  day, 
because  she's  down  behind  that  spur  of  coast. 
From  the  ocean,  though,  she's  seen  easily 
enough." 

"And  how  can  we  get  there?"  asked  Blake. 

"Well,  you  can  walk  right  down  the  beach, 
though  it's  a  middlin'  long  tramp ;  or  you  can  go 
back  to  town,  and  hire  a  rig." 

"We'll  walk,"  decided  Joe.  "Do  you  happen  to 
56 


AT  THE  LIGHTHOUSE  57 

know  of  a  Mr.  Duncan  there?"  He  waited 
anxiously  for  the  answer. 

"No,  lad,  I  can't  rightly  say  I  do,"  said  the 
fisherman.  "I  know  the  keeper,  Harry  Stanton, 
and,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  did  hear  the  other 
day  that  he  had  a  new  assistant." 

"That's  him !"  cried  Joe,  eagerly. 

"Who?" 

"My  father,  I  hope,"  was  the  reply,  and  in  his 
joy  Joe  told  something  of  his  story. 

"Well,  you  sure  have  spun  a  queer  yarn,"  said 
the  old  fisherman,  "and  I  wish  you  all  sorts  of 
luck.  You'll  soon  be  at  the  light  if  you  go  right 
down  the  beach.  I'd  row  you  down  in  my  dory, 
only  I've  just  come  in  from  taking  up  my  nets 
and  I'm  sort  of  tired." 

"Oh,  we  wouldn't  think  of  asking  you,"  put 
in  Blake.  "We  can  easily  walk  it." 

"Some  day  I'll  take  you  out  fishing,"  promised 
the  man.  "And  so  you're  here  to  get  moving 
pictures;  eh?  Well,  I  don't  know  much  about 
'em,  but  you  couldn't  come  to  a  nicer  place  than 
this  spot  on  the  coast.  And  you  only  have  to  go 
a  little  way  to  get  right  where  the  real  surf  comes 
smashing  up  on  the  beach.  Of  course,  as  I  said, 
we're  so  land-locked  just  here  thet  we  don't  see 
much  of  it,  even  in  a  storm.  Moving  pictures; 
eh?  I'd  like  to  see  some." 


58    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"I  guess  you  can  be  in  them,  if  you  want  to/' 
said  Blake.  "I  heard  Mr.  Ringold  say  he  had 
one  drama  that  called  for  a  lot  of  fishermen." 

"Me  in  moving  pictures!"  cried  the  old  man. 
"Ho!  Ho!  I  wonder  what  my  wife'd  say  to 
that.  I've  been  in  lots  of  queer  situations.  I've 
been  knocked  overboard  by  a  whale,  I've  been 
wrecked,  and  half  drowned,  and  almost  starved, 
but  I've  never  been  in  a  picture,  except  I  once  had 
a  tintype  taken — that  was  when  I  was  married," 
and  he  chuckled  at  the  remembrance.  "These 
movin'  pictures  aren't  like  tintypes ;  are  they  ?" 

"Not  much,"  laughed  Joe,  as  he  and  Blake 
moved  off  in  the  direction  of  the  lighthouse,  call- 
ing a  good-bye  to  their  new  friend.  They  had 
told  Mr.  Hadley,  in  starting  out  that  morning, 
that  they  might  not  be  back  until  late,  for  Joe  had 
a  half  notion  that  he  would  try  to  find  the  light- 
house that  day. 

"I  wonder  what  I  shall  say  to  him,  when  I  first 
see  him,  Blake?"  Joe  asked,  as  they  trudged 
along. 

"Why — er — I  hardly  know,"  replied  his  chum. 
"I  never  found  a  lost  father,  myself." 

"And  I  never  did,  either.  I  guess  I'll  just 
say :  "Hello,  Dad ;  do  you  know  me  ?" 

"That  sounds  all  right,"  said  Blake.  "He  sure 
will  be  surprised." 


"AT  THE  LIGHTHOUSE  59 

The  walk  was  longer  than  they  had  thought, 
and  when  noon  came  they  still  had  some  distance 
to  go.  As  they  were  hungry  they  sought  out  a 
fisherman's  cottage,  where,  for  a  small  sum,  they 
had  a  fine  meal.  Starting  out  again,  they  turned 
an  intervening  point  of  land  about  three  o'clock, 
and  then  came  in  view  of  a  lighthouse,  located  on 
a  pile  of  rocks,  not  far  from  the  high-water  mark. 

"That's  the  place,"  said  Blake,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Joe.  "It  looks  comfortable  and 
homelike,  too." 

Back  of  the  lighthouse  was  a  small  garden,  and 
also  a  flower  bed,  and  a  man  could  be  seen  work- 
ing there.  His  back  was  toward  the  boys. 

"I — I  wonder  if  that's  him — my  father?"  said 
Joe,  softly.  "He  seems  to  be  very  old,"  for  they 
had  a  glimpse  of  a  long  white  beard,  and  the  man 
seemed  to  be  bent  with  the  weight  of  many  years. 

"Go  up  and  ask,"  said  Blake.    "I'll  wait  here." 

"No,  I  want  you  to  come  with  me,"  insisted 
his  chum.  "You  were  with  me  when  I  first  heard 
the  good  news,  and  now  I  want  you  along  to  hear 
the  conclusion  of  it.  Come  on,  Blake." 

"No,  I'd  rather  not,"  and  nothing  Joe  could  say 
would  induce  his  chum  to  accompany  him. 

Their  talk  had  been  carried  on  in  low  voices, 
and  the  aged  man,  working  in  the  garden,  had 


60    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

apparently  not  heard  them.  He  continued  to  hoe 
away  among  the  rows. 

"Well,  here  goes !"  exclaimed  Joe,  with  a  sighl 
Now  that  he  felt  he  was  at  the  end  of  his  quest 
his  sensations  were  almost  as  sorrowful  as  joyful. 
In  fact,  he  did  not  know  exactly  how  he  did  feel. 

Walking  up  toward  the  old  man,  he  paused,  and 
then  coughed  slightly  to  attract  his  attention. 
The  lighthouse  keeper  turned,  surveyed  the  boy 
and  in  a  pleasant  voice  asked: 

"Well?" 

"If — if  you — are  you  my  father?"  asked  Joe, 
in  trembling  voice,  holding  out  his  hands. 

"Your  father!"  cried  the  man  in  unmistakable 
surprise.  "What  is  your  name?" 

"Joe  Duncan." 

"Joe  Duncan  ?    Did  Duncan  have  a  son  ?*r 

"Yes,  and  I'm  the  boy !"  went  on  Joe,  eagerly, 
yet  a  doubt  began  creeping  into  his  heart.  "But 
are  you  Mr.  Nathaniel  Duncan?" 

The  old  man  paused  a  moment,  and  then  said 
gently : 

"No,  my  boy.  I'm  Harry  Stanton,  keeper  of 
Rockypoint  light." 

"But  my  father!"  exclaimed  Joe.  "I  under- 
stood he  was  here !  Where  is  he?" 

"He  was  here,"  went  on  Mr.  Stanton,  as  he 
leaned  on  his  hoe  and  looked  compassionately  at 


AT  THE  LIGHTHOUSE  6 1 

the  lad  standing  before  him ;  "but  he  went  away 
more  than  a  week  ago." 

"Gone  away!"  echoed  Joe.  "Did  he — did  he 
get  my  letter  ?" 

"I  don't  know  whether  it  was  your  letter  or 
not,"  said  the  keeper.  "One  came  for  him  the 
day  after  he  left.  It's  here  yet.  It  was  from 
Flagstaff,  Arizona,  I  believe." 

"That's  my  letter!"  exclaimed  Joe.  "And  he 
never  got  it !  Poor  Dad,  he  doesn't  yet  know 
that  I'm  alive!"  and  he  turned  away  with  tears 
in  his  eyes. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BLAKE   LEARNS   A   SECRET 

BLAKE,  looking  on  from  a  little  distance,  saw 
Joe  turn  aside  from  the  aged  man. 

"That's  rather  queer,"  thought  the  lad.  "If 
that  was  his  father  it  isn't  a  very  cordial 
welcome." 

As  he  looked,  he  saw  Joe  walking  out  of  the 
garden. 

"Queerer  still,"  Blake  mused.  "Even  if  that 
isn't  Mr.  Duncan,  he  must  be  somewhere  around, 
for  lighthouse  keepers  can't  be  very  far  away 
from  their  station,  as  I  understand  it." 

Joe  came  walking  toward  his  chum.  His  face 
showed  his  disappointment  so  unmistakably  that 
Blake  called  out : 

"What's  the  matter,  Joe?" 

"He's  gone — he  isn't  here!  He  never  got  my 
letter!" 

"Where  has  he  gone?"  asked  Blake,  always 
practical. 

62 


BLAKE  LEARNS  'A  SECRET  63 

"I— I  don't  know.     I  didn't  ask." 

"Look  here,  Joe!"  exclaimed  his  chum.  "I 
guess  you're  too  excited  over  this.  You  let  me 
make  some  inquiries  for  you.  Suppose  he  has 
gone  ?  We  may  be  able  to  trace  him.  Men  in  ' 
the  lighthouse  service  get  transferred  from  one 
place  to  another  just  as  soldiers  do,  I  imagine. 
Now  you  sit  down  here  and  look  at  the  sad  sea 
waves,  as  C.  C.  would  say  if  he  were  here,  and 
I'll  go  tackle  that  lighthouse  keeper.  You  were 
too  flustered  to  get  any  clues,  I  expect." 

"I  guess  I  was,"  admitted  Joe.  "When  I  found 
he  wasn't  there  I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  I 
didn't  feel  like  asking  any  questions." 

Blake  placed  his  arm  around  his  chum's  shoul- 
der, patted  him  on  the  back,  and  started  toward 
the  aged  man,  who  was  still  leaning  on  his  hoe, 
looking  in  mild  surprise  at  the  two  lads. 

"I'll  find  out  all  about  it,"  called  back  Blake. 

"Ha !  Another  boy !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Stanton, 
as  Blake  approached.  "I  didn't  know  this  was 
going  to  be  visiting  day,  or  I  might  have  put  on 
my  other  suit,"  and  he  laughed  genially.  "Are 
you  another  son  of  Mr.  Duncan  ?"  he  asked. 

"No,"  replied  Blake.  "I'm  Joe's  chum.  We're 
in  the  moving  picture  business  together.  But  he 
says  his  father  has  left,  and,  as  he  naturally  feels 
badly,  I  thought  I'd  make  some  inquiries  for 


64    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

him,  so  we  can  locate  him.  Do  you  know  where 
Mr.  Duncan  went?" 

"No — I  can't  say  that  I  do,"  was  the  slow 
answer.  "And  so  you  are  chums ;  eh  ?" 

"Yes,  and  we  have  been  for  some  years." 

"That's  nice.  You  tell  each  other  all  your 
secrets,  I  suppose?" 

"Well,  most  of  'em." 

"Never  hold  anything  back?" 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?"  asked  Blake,  for 
there  seemed  to  be  a  strange  meaning  in  the  old 
man's  voice. 

"I  mean,  lad,"  and  the  lighthouse  keeper's  tones 
sank  to  a  whisper;  "I  mean,  if  I  tell  you  some- 
thing, can  you  keep  it  from  him  ?" 

"Why — yes — I  suppose  so,"  spoke  Blake,  won- 
deringly.  "But  what  is  the  matter?  Isn't  his 
father  here?" 

"No,  he's  gone,  just  as  I  told  him.  But  look 
here — he  seems  a  nice  sort  of  lad,  and  I  didn't 
want  to  hurt  his  feelings.  I'd  rather  tell  you,  as 
long  as  you're  his  chum,  and  if  you  can  keep  a 
secret." 

He  looked  to  where  Joe  was  sitting  on  the 
rocks,  watching  the  waves  roll  lazily  up  the  beach 
and  break.  Joe  was  far  enough  off  so  that  the 
low-voiced  conversation  could  not  reach  him. 

"I  can  keep  a  secret  if  I  have  to,"  replied  Blake. 


65 

"But  what  is  it  all  about  ?  Is  Mr.  Duncan — is  he 
—dead?" 

The  old  man  hesitated,  and,  for  a  moment, 
Blake  thought  that  his  guess  was  correct  Then 
the  aged  man  said  slowly: 

"No,  my  boy,  he  isn't  dead;  but  maybe,  for  the 
sake  of  his  son,  he  had  better  be.  At  any  rate,  it's 
better,  all  around,  that  he's  away  from  here." 

"Why?"  asked  Blake  quickly.  "Tell  me  what 
you  mean !" 

"That  I  will,  lad,  and  maybe  you  can  figure  a 
way  out  of  the  puzzle.  I'm  an  old  man,  and  not 
as  smart  as  I  was,  so  my  brain  doesn't  work 
quickly.  Maybe  you'  can  find  a  way  out.  Come 
inside  where  we  can  talk  so  he  won't  hear  us," 
and  he  nodded  toward  the  quiet  figure  of  Joe  on 
the  beach. 

Blake  wondered  more  than  ever  what  the  dis- 
closure might  be.  He  followed  the  aged  man  into 
the  living  quarters  of  the  house  attached  to  the 
light  tower. 

"Sit  ye  there,  lad,"  went  on  Mr.  Stanton,  "and 
I'll  tell  you  all  about  it.  Maybe  you  can  find  a 
way  out." 

He  paused,  as  if  to  gather  his  thoughts,  and 
then  resumed : 

"You  see  I'm  pretty  old,  and  I  have  to  have 
an  assistant  at  this  light.  I  expect  soon  I'll  have 


66    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

to  give  up  altogether.  But  I'm  going  to  hang 
on  as  long  as  I  can.  I've  had  three  assistants  in 
the  last  year,  and  one  of  'em,  as  you  know  now, 
was  Nathaniel  Duncan,  Joe's  father.  Before  him 
I  had  a  likely  young  fellow  named — ah,  well,  I've 
forgotten,  and  the  name  doesn't  matter  much  any- 
how. But  when  he  left  the  board  sent  me  this 
Duncan,  and  I  must  say  I  liked  him  right  well." 

"What  sort  of  a  man  was  he  ?"  asked  Blake. 

"A  nice  sort  of  man.  He  was  about  middle 
aged,  tall,  well  built,  and  strong  as  a  horse.  He 
looked  as  if  he  had  had  trouble,  though,  and  grad- 
ually he  told  me  his  story.  His  wife  had  died 
when  his  boy  and  girl  were  young " 

"Girl!  Was  there  a  girl?"  cried  Blake.  "Has 
Joe  a  sister,  too  ?" 

"He  had — whether  he  has  yet,  I  don't  know," 
went  on  Mr.  Stanton.  "I'll  tell  you  all  I  know. 

"As  I  said,  Nate  Duncan  seemed  to  have  had 
lots  of  sorrow,  and  he  told  me  how,  after  his  wife 
died,  he  had  placed  the  boy  and  girl  in  charge 
of  some  people,  and  gone  off  to  the  California 
mines  to  make  some  money.  When  he  come  back, 
rich,  the  children  had  disappeared,  and  so  had  the 
people  he  left  'em  with.  He  never  could  locate 
'em,  though  he  tried  hard,  and  so  did  his  half- 
brother,  Bill.  But  Bill  was  different  from  Nate,, 


BLAKE  LEARNS  A  SECRET  67 

so  I  understand.  Bill  was  a  reckless  sort  of  chap, 
while  Joe's  father  was  quite  steady." 

"That's  right,"  spoke  Blake,  and  then  he  related 
how  Joe  had  come  to  get  a  trace  of  his  father. 

"Well,"  resumed  Mr.  Stanton,  "as  I  said,  Dun- 
can came  here,  and  he  and  I  got  along  well  to- 
gether. Then  there  came  trouble." 

"Trouble?    What  kind?"  asked  Joe. 

"Trouble  with  wreckers,  lad.  The  meanest  and 
most  wicked  kind  of  trouble  there  can  be  on  a  sea- 
coast.  A  band  of  bad  men  got  together  and  by 
means  of  false  lights  lured  small  vessels  out  of 
their  course  so  they  went  on  the  rocks.  Then 
they  got  what  they  could  when  the  cargo  was 
washed  ashore." 

"But  what  has  that  got  to  do  with  Joe's 
father?"  asked  Blake. 

"Too  much,  I'm  afraid,  lad.  It  was  said  that 
the  light  here  was  allowed  to  go  out  some  nights, 
so  the  false  light  would  be  more  effective." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  Nate  Duncan  had  charge  of  the  light  at 
night  after  I  went  off  duty.  And  it  was  always 
when  I  was  off  duty  that  the  wrecks  occurred." 

"Do  you  mean  to  accuse  Joe's  father  of  being 
in  with  the  wreckers  ?" 

"No,  lad.  I  don't  accuse  anybody ;  I'm  too  old 
a  man  to  do  anything  like  that.  But  ugly  stories 


68    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  'ON  THE  COAST 

began  to  be  circulated.  Government  inspectors 
began  to  call  more  often  than  they  used  to,  in- 
specting my  light — my  light,  that  I've  tended  nigh 
onto  twenty-five  years  now.  I  began  to  hear 
rumors  that  my  assistant  wasn't  altogether 
straight  He  was  said  to  be  seen  consorting  with 
the  wreckers,  though  it  was  hard  to  get  proof  that 
the  men  were  wreckers,  for  they  pretended  to  be 
fishermen. 

"Then  come  a  day  when,  with  my  own  eyes, 
I  saw  Nate  Duncan  walking  along  the  beach  with 
one  of  the  men  who  was  said  to  be  at  the  head 
of  the  wrecking  gang.  I  could  see  that  they  were 
quarreling,  and  then  Nate  knocked  the  man  down. 
He  didn't  get  up  right  away,  for,  as  I  said,  Nate 
was  strong.  I  knew  something  would  come  of 
that,  and  I  wasn't  much  surprised  when  that  day 
Nate  disappeared." 

"Disappeared?"  cried  Blake. 

"Went  off  completely,  and  left  me  alone  at  the 
light.  I  tended  it  all  night,  same  as  I  had  done 
before,  many  a  time,  and  the  next  day  I  reported 
matters,  and  I  had  a  new  assistant — the  same  one 
I  have  now." 

"But  that  doesn't  prove  anything,"  said  Blake. 
"Just  because  Joe's  father,  and  a  man  suspected 
of  being  a  wrecker,  had  a  quarrel,  doesn't  say  that 
Mr.  Duncan  was  a  wrecker,  too." 


BLAKE  LEARNS  A  SECRET       69 

"There's  more  to  it,"  went  on  the  old  man. 
"The  day  after  Nate  Duncan  disappeared  de- 
tectives came  here  looking  for  him." 

Blake  started.  There  was  more  to  the  story 
than  he  had  suspected.  He  looked  at  Mr.  Stan- 
ton,  and  glanced  out  of  the  window  to  where  Joe 
still  sat. 

"So  that's  why  I  say  maybe  it  would  be  better 
for  Joe  if  his  father  was  dead,"  went  on  Mr. 
Stanton.  "Disgrace  is  a  terrible  thing,  and  I 
couldn't  bear  to  tell  Joe,  when  he  asked  me  about 
his  father." 

"But  where  did  he  go?"  asked  Blake.  "Didn't 
he  leave  any  trace  at  all?" 

"Not  a  trace,  lad — folks  most  generally  doesn't 
when  the  detectives  are  after  'em.  Hold  on, 
though,  I  won't  say  Nate  was  guilty  on  my  own 
hook.  I'm  only  telling  you  what  happened.  I'd 
hate  to  believe  he  was  a  wrecker,  misusing  this 
light  to  draw  vessels  on  the  dangerous  rocks ;  but 
it  looks  black,  it  looks  black." 

"Did  the  detectives  actually  accuse  Mr.  Dun- 
can ?"  asked  Blake. 

"Well,  they  as  much  as  did.  They  said  some 
of  the  wreckers  had  been  arrested,  and  had  in- 
criminated the  assistant  light-keeper.  But  Dun- 
can was  smart  enough — provided  he  was  guilty — 
to  skip  out.  As  I  told  Joe,  his  father  left  just 


70    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

before  the  letter  from  Flagstaff  came,  so  he 
doesn't  know  his  son  is  alive.  Poor  man,  I'm 
sorry  for  him.  He  told  me  how  he  had  searched 
all  over  for  his  children,  and  at  last,  becoming- 
tired  and  discouraged,  he  took  this  job  just  to 
have  something  to  do,  for  he's  well  enough  off 
not  to  have  to  work." 

"And  there's  no  way  of  telling  where  he  went?" 
questioned  Blake. 

"Nary  a  one  that  I  know  of,  lad.  As  I  said, 
maybe  he's  better  off  lost." 

"Not  for  Joe." 

"Well,  maybe  not;  but  for  himself.  There  are 
heavy  penalties  for  wrecking,  and  it's  well  he 
wasn't  caught,  though,  as  I  say,  I  don't  accuse 
him.  Only  it  looks  black,  it  looks  black.  If  he 
was  innocent  why  didn't  he  stay  and  fight  it  out  ? 
Yes,  lad,  it  looks  black." 

"I'm  afraid  so,"  sighed  Blake.  "How  can  I 
ever  tell  Joe  the  news?" 

"You     mustn't!"     exclaimed    the    old    man. 
"That's  just  it.    You  must  not  tell  him.    I'd  hate 
to  destroy  his  faith  in  his  father.     It  would  be' 
cruel.     That's  why  I  asked  if  you  could  keep  a 
secret.     You  won't  tell  him ;  will  you  ?" 

"No,"  said  Blake,  in  a  low  voice;  "I  won't  tell 
him." 


CHAPTER  IX 

AT    PRACTICE 

THERE  was  silence  between  man  and  boy  for 
a  space,  and  then  Blake,  understanding  how  hard 
it  would  be  to  keep  the  news  from  Joe,  said : 

"I'll  have  to  tell  him  something,  Mr.  Stanton. 
Joe  will  want  to  know  why  his  father  went  away, 
and  where.  Isn't  there  any  way  in  which  we  may 
get  a  clue  to  the  direction  he  took?" 

"Wait  a  minute  until  I  think,  lad,"  said  the 
old  man.  "It  may  be  that  we  can  find  a  clue,  after 
all.  Nate  Duncan  left  some  papers  behind.  I 
haven't  looked  at  'em,  not  wishing  to  make 
trouble,  but  there  may  be  a  clue  there.  I'll  get 
'em." 

"And  I'll  call  Joe  in  to  go  over  them  with  me," 
said  Blake.  "He'll  want  to  see  them." 

"But,  mind  you,  not  a  word  about  what  I've 
told  you." 

"No,  I'll  keep  quiet,"  promised  Blake.  "I'll 
call  him  in,  while  you  get  the  papers." 


72    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

Going  to  the  door  of  the  little  cottage,  Blake 
called  to  his  chum. 

''What  is  it?"  asked  Joe,  eagerly.  "Was  there 
some  mistake?  Is  my  father  somewhere  around 
here,  after  all  ?" 

"Well,  we  hope  to  find  him,"  said  Blake,  with 
an  assurance  he  did  not  feel.  "Look  here,  Joe, 
your  father  went  away  rather  suddenly,  it  seems, 
but  you  mustn't  think  anything  about  that.  He's 
been  traveling  all  over,  you  know,  looking  for  you 
and  your  sister " 

"Sister?"  cried  Joe. 

"Yes,  you  had  a  sister,  though  I  can't  get  much 
information  about  her.  Neither  could  your  uncle 
tell  you,  as  you  remember." 

"That's  right.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  find  dad  and 
her!"  and  Joe  sighed.  "But  maybe  she  isn't 
alive." 

"It's  this  way,"  went  on  Blake,  and  he  told  as 
much  of  the  lighthouse  keeper's  story  as  was  wise, 
keeping  from  Joe  all  information  about  the 
wreckers.  "Now,  your  father  may  have  heard  of 
some  new  clue  about  you,"  continued  Joe's  chum, 
"and  he  may  have  gone  to  hunt  that  up,"  which 
was  true  enough,  for  with  the  warning  that  he 
was  likely  to  be  arrested  as  a  criminal,  there  may 
have  come  to  Mr.  Duncan  some  information  about 
his  missing  children. 


'AT  PRACTICE  73 

"But  in  that  case/'  asked  Joe,  "why  didn't  he 
leave  some  word  as  to  where  he  was  going?" 

"He  may  have  been  in  too  much  of  a  hurry," 
suggested  Blake,  realizing  that  he  was  going  to 
have  considerable  difficulty  in  keeping  Joe  from 
guessing  the  truth. 

"Well,  perhaps  that's  so,"  agreed  the  lad.  "But 
maybe  Mr.  Stanton  has  some  clues." 

The  lighthouse  keeper  came  downstairs  at  this 
moment  with  a  bundle  of  papers  in  his  hand. 

"Here  is  all  I  found,"  he  said.  "It  isn't  much, 
but  among  the  things  he  left  behind  is  the  letter 
you  wrote,"  and  he  extended  to  Joe  the  missive 
the  lad  had  penned  in  such  hope  at  Flagstaff. 

"Poor  Dad,"  murmured  Joe.  "I  wonder  if  he 
will  ever  get  this?" 

Together  he  and  Blake  looked  over  the  docu- 
ments. As  the  keeper  had  said,  there  was  not 
much.  Some  memoranda,  evidently  made  as  dif- 
ferent clues  came  to  him ;  paid  bills,  some  business 
letters,  a  few  notes,  and  that  was  all. 

"What's  this?"  exclaimed  Blake,  as  he  read  one 
letter.  "It  seems  to  be  from  some  shipping  agent 
in  San  Francisco,  saying  he  can  place — why,  Joe, 
it's  to  your  father,  and  it  says  he  can  have  a  place 
as  mate  any  time  he  wants  it.  Was  he  a  sailor  ?" 
he  asked,  eagerly,  turning  to  the  keeper. 

"So  I  understood." 


74    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Then  this  is  the  very  thing  we're  looking  for !" 
cried  Blake.  "Look,  it  is  dated  only  a  short  time 
before  he  left.  I  see  now/'  and  he  gave  the  light- 
house keeper  a  peculiar  look,  when  Joe  was  not 
glancing  in  his  direction.  "Mr.  Duncan  got  word 
that  he  could  ship  as  a  mate,  and  he  left  in  a 
hurry." 

"Maybe  so,"  assented  Mr.  Stanton. 

"Perhaps  he  had  some  new  clue  about  you,  Joe, 
or  possibly  about  your  sister,"  suggested  Blake, 
hoping  his  chum  would  come  to  take  this  view. 

"Maybe,"  assented  Joe.  "But  it's  queer  he 
didn't  leave  some  word,  or  tell  someone  he  was 
going." 

"He  may  not  have  had  time,"  went  on  Blake. 
"Vessels  have  to  sail  in  a  hurry,  lots  of  times,  and 
he  may  have  had  to  act  quickly." 

"It's  possible,"  admitted  the  keeper. 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  continued 
Blake.  "We'll  go  to  San  Francisco  the  first 
chance  we  get,  and  see  this  shipping  agent.  He 
may  be  able  to  put  us  on  the  right  track." 

"I  guess  it's  the  only  thing  to  do,"  agreed  Joe, 
in  despondent  tones.  "Poor  Dad !  I  nearly  found 
him,  and  then  I  lost  him  again." 

They  looked  over  the  other  papers.  None 
offered  as  promising  a  clue  as  did  the  agent's 


'AT  PRACTICE  75 

letter,  and  this  Joe  took  with  him,  also  his  own  to 
his  father. 

"Maybe  I'll  get  a  chance  to  deliver  it  to  him 
myself,"  he  said,  with  a  smile  that  had  little  of 
hope  in  it. 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  learned  at  the 
lighthouse.  The  boys  left,  after  thanking  the 
keeper,  and  promising  to  come  and  see  him  again. 
As  they  went  out  Mr.  Stanton  gave  Blake  a  little 
sign,  warning  him  not  to  disclose  the  secret. 

"Well,  failure  number  one,"  said  Joe,  as  they 
took  a  carriage  back  to  San  Diego,  it  being  rather 
late. 

"Yes,  but  we'll  win  out  yet!"  declared  Blake, 
with  a  confidence  he  did  not  feel.  "We'll  find 
your  father  and  your  sister,  too." 

"I'll  have  more  relations  than  you,  Blake,  if  I 
keep  on,  and  can  find  them,"  said  Joe,  after  a  bit 

'That's  right.  Well,  I  wish  you  luck,"  and 
Blake  wondered  if  Joe  would  be  glad  he  had  found 
his  father,  after  all.  "Wrecking  is  a  black  busi- 
ness," mused  the  lad.  "But,  like  Mr.  Stanton,  I'm 
not  going  to  think  Joe's  father  guilty  until  I  have 
to.  I  wonder,  though,  if  the  story  is  known  about 
San  Diego?  If  it  is  I'll  have  trouble  keeping  it 
from  Joe." 

But  Joe's  chum  found  he  had  little  to  fear  on 
this  score,  for,  on  getting  back  to  the  quarters  of 


76    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

the  theatrical  troupe,  the  boys  were  told  that  the 
next  day  they  would  all  take  up  their  residence  in 
a  small  seacoast  settlement,  out  on  the  main  ocean 
beach,  away  from  the  land-locked  bay  and  where 
bigger  waves  could  be  pictured. 

"And  there  we'll  enact  the  first  of  the  sea 
dramas,"  said  Mr.  Ringold. 

"And  all  get  drowned,"  murmured  C.  C,  in  his 
gloomiest  tone. 

"I'll  wash  your  face  with  snow — the  first  time  it 
snows  in  this  summer  land — if  you  don't  be  more 
cheerful,"  threatened  Miss  Shay. 

"Well,  something  will  happen,  I'm  sure/* 
declared  C.  C.  "When  do  we  move  ?" 

"To-morrow,"  said  Mr.  Ringold,  while  Blake 
and  Joe  told  Mr.  Hadley  of  their  poor  success  in 
finding  Mr.  Duncan.  The  photographer,  as  did 
the  other  members  of  the  company,  sympathized 
with  the  lad.  Mr.  Ringold  said  that  as  soon  as 
they  got  settled  the  boys  could  go  to  San  Francisco 
to  look  up  the  shipping  agent. 

The  transfer  to  the  small  seacoast  settlement 
was  a  matter  of  some  work,  but  in  a  week  all  was 
arranged,  and  the  members  of  the  company  were 
settled  in  a  large,  comfortable  house,  close  to  the 
beach. 

"And  now  for  some  rehearsals,"  said  Mr. 
Ringold,  one  morning.  "One  of  the  scenes  calls 


rAT  PRACTICE  77 

for  a  shipwrecked  man  coming  ashore  in  a  small 
boat.  Now,  C.  C,  I  guess  you'll  have  to  be  the 
man  this  time,  as  I  need  the  others  for  shore 
parts.  Get  the  cameras  ready." 

"I — I'm  to  be  shipwrecked;  am  I?"  inquired 
Mr.  Piper.  "Do  I  have  to  fall  overboard?" 

"Not  unless  you  want  to,"  said  Mr.  Ringold, 
consulting  the  manuscript  of  the  play. 

"Then  I'm  not  going  to,  for  I'll  catch  my  death 
of  cold  if  I  do." 

"Hum!  I'm  glad  he  didn't  have  any  other 
objections,"  murmured  the  theatrical  man.  "This 
is  going  to  be  easy." 

The  preparations  were  made,  it  being  customary 
to  rehearse  the  scenes  and  acts  before  "filming" 
them  to  secure  good  results.  A  boat  was 
launched,  after  some  trouble  on  account  of  the 
surf,  and  with  the  aid  of  some  fishermen,  "C.  C. 
was  finally  sent  to  sea,"  which  was  a  joke,  as 
Blake  remarked. 

"And  now  come  in  with  the  waves,"  ordered 
Mr.  Ringold,  who  was  directing  the  drama. 
"Hang  over  the  edge  of  the  boat,  C.  C,  and  look 
as  if  you  hadn't  had  any  food  or  water  for  a 
week." 

"They  say  an  actor  never  eats,  anyhow,"  mur- 
mured Mr.  Hadley,  who,  with  the  boys,  was 


78    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

ready  with  the  cameras ;  "so  I  guess  C.  C.  won't 
have  to  pretend  much." 

"Come  on !"  cried  Mr.  Ringold.  "Hang  more 
over  the  side  of  the  boat." 

C.  C.  Piper  obeyed  orders — too  literally,  in  fact 
He  leaned  so  far  over  that,  a  moment  later,  when 
there  came  a  particularly  large  wave,  the  craft 
slewed  sideways,  got  into  the  trough,  and  an 
instant  later  capsized. 

"He's  overboard !"  yelled  Miss  Lee. 

"Save  him !"  cried  Miss  Shay. 

"Stop  the  cameras,"  came  from  Mr.  Ringold. 
"We  don't  want  that  in  the  picture." 

"Man  overboard!"  bawled  the  fishermen,  who 
were  interestedly  watching  the  scene.  "Launch 
the  motor  boatl" 


CHAPTER  X 

TO   SAX    FRANCISCO 

FOR  a  moment  there  was  excitement,  and  then 
the  trained  men  of  the  sea  got  into  action.  Nearby 
there  were  several  fishing  boats,  operated  by  gas- 
oline motors.  There  were  planks  at  hand,  and 
rollers  on  which  the  craft  could  be  launched  in 
the  surf,  being  eased  along  the  slope  by  releasing 
a  cable  rigged  to  a  post  some  distance  away. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  the  fishermen  to  launch 
one  of  these  motor  boats,  and  while  C.  C.  Piper 
was  struggling  in  the  surf,  endeavoring  as  best 
he  could  to  climb  into  his  overturned  boat,  they 
put  out  to  rescue  him. 

"Do  you  want  that  in  the  picture?"  asked  Joe, 
who  was  at  one  of  the  cameras. 

"No  indeed!"  cried  Mr.  Ringold.  "It  won't 
fit  in  at  all !  He  must  drift  ashore.  We'll  have 
to  do  all  this  over  again." 

"I  can  see  Gloomy  doing  it,"  murmured  Blake. 

At  that  moment  there  came  a  hail  from  the 
comedian, 

79 


go    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Hello!"  he  cried.  "Are  you  going  to — gulp 
— let  me — glub — sink  out  here?  Can't  some  of 

you "  and  the  rest  was  lost  amid  a  series  of 

gurgles  as  the  salty  water  got  in  C.  C.'s  mouth. 

"Hold  on  just  a  little  longer,"  called  one  of  the 
fishermen,  as  he  directed  the  craft  toward  the 
struggling  actor.  "We'll  have  you  out  presently." 

"You'd — better — hurry — up !"  panted  the  come- 
dian, who  might  well  be  excused  at  this  moment 
from  taking  a  gloomy  view  of  life. 

He  managed  to  cling  to  one  side  of  the  dory 
until  the  rescuing  motor  craft  reached  him.  Then 
he  was  soon  hauled  aboard,  dripping  wet,  all  but 
exhausted,  and  unable  to  utter  a  sound  save  sighs. 

"Well,  it  was  too  bad,"  said  Mr.  Ringold,  when 
C.  C.  was  once  more  ashore.  "I  guess  we'll  have 
to  get  you  a  little  larger  boat." 

"Get  me  one  ?"  asked  the  actor,  with  the  accent 
on  the  personal  pronoun. 

"Certainly.  We'll  have  to  do  this  scene  over 
again.  I  guess  we  could  use  one  of  the  fishing 
boats,  though  they're  a  little  large.  But  we  can 
move  the  cameras  back.  Take  one  of  those, 
C  C" 

"I  guess  not." 

"What's  that?" 

"I  said  I  guess  not.    No  more  for  mine !" 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you  won't  go  on  witH 


TO  SAN  FRANCISCO  8l 

this  act?  Are  you  going  to  balk  as  you  did  in 
the  Indian  scene?" 

"Say,"  began  C.  C.,  earnestly,  as,  dripping  wet 
as  he  was,  he  strode  up  to  the  theatrical  man,  "I 
can't  swim,  and  I  don't  like  the  water.  I  told  you 
that  the  time  you  took  me  up  in  the  country,  where 
we  found  these  boys,"  and  he  motioned  to  Blake 
and  Joe,  who  were  looking  interestedly  on,  ready 
to  work  the  cameras  as  soon  as  required. 

"And  yet,"  went  on  Mr.  Piper,  "you  insisted 
that  I  jump  overboard  then  and  rescue  Miss  Shay. 
Now  you  want  me  to  drift  in  as  a  shipwrecked 
sailor.  It's  too  much,  I  tell  you.  There  is  en- 
tirely too  much  water  and  tank  drama  in  this 
business.  I  know  I'll  get  my  death  of  cold,  if  I 
don't  drown." 

"Oh,  can't  you  look  on  the  bright  side?"  asked 
Miss  Shay,  who  was  to  come  into  the  drama 
later.  "Why,  it's  so  warm  I  should  think  you'd 
like  to  get  into  the  surf." 

"Not  for  mine!"  exclaimed  C.  C.,  firmly,  and 
it  took  some  persuasion  on  the  part  of  the  the- 
atrical manager,  accompanied  by  a  promise  of  an 
increase  of  salary  every  time  he  had  to  go  into 
the  water,  to  induce  C.  C.  to  try  the  shipwreck 
scene  over  again. 

This  time  a  larger  boat  was  used,  and,  though 
it  came  near  to  capsizing,  it  did  not  quite  go  over, 


though  considerable  water  was  shipped.  C.  C. 
managed  to  stay  aboard,  and  the  cameras,  rapidly 
clicking,  registered  each  movement  of  the  actor 
and  those  who  later  took  part  in  the  drama. 

Then  some  shore  scenes  were  photographed,  the 
'supposed  shipwrecked  persons  building  a  fire,  pre- 
tending to  catch  fish  from  the  ocean,  and  cooking 
thtm. 

All  this  the  moving  picture  boys,  or  Mr.  Had- 
ley,  faithfully  registered  on  the  films,  to  be  later 
thrown  on  the  screen  for  the  delight  of  the  public. 

"I  wonder  if  the  folks  who  look  at  moving  pic- 
tures realize  how  they  are  made?"  said  Joe,  as 
they  stopped  work  for  the  day. 

"I  don't  believe  so,"  answered  Blake.  "There 
are  tricks  in  all  trades,  it's  said;  but  I  guess  the 
moving  picture  business  is  as  full  of  them  as  any." 

The  next  two  days  were  busy  ones,  as  a  num- 
ber of  elaborate  acts  had  to  be  filmed,  and  the  boys 
were  kept  on  the  jump  from  morning  to  night. 
Mr.  Hadley,  also,  had  all  he  could  do  with  the 
camera.  There  were  fishing  views  to  get,  scenes 
on  the  beach,  where  a  number  of  children  were 
induced  to  play  at  games  in  the  sand,  building 
castles  and  tunnels,  boating  incidents  and  the  like. 

C.  C.  did  not  fall  overboard  again,  though  he 
often  was  sent  out  to  do  some  funny  stunt  that 
was  to  be  used  in  the  play. 


TO  SAN  FRANCISCO  83 

"I  wonder  when  we  can  go  to  San  Francisco?" 
queried  Joe  one  afternoon,  following  a  particu- 
larly hard  day.  "I  want  to  see  that  shipping 
agent,  and  ask  him  if  he  can  give  me  any  clue 
to  my  father." 

"Maybe  we'd  better  speak  to  Mr.  Ringold," 
suggested  Blake,  and  they  did,  with  the  result  that 
the  theatrical  man  informed  them  that  the  end  of 
the  week  would  be  free,  as  he  had  to  wait  for  some 
costumes  to  arrive  before  he  could  produce  any 
more  dramas. 

"I  want  to  get  a  good  wreck  scene,"  he  said, 
"and  that  is  going  to  be  rather  hard." 

"Will  it  be  a  real  wreck  scene?"  asked  Joe. 

"Yes,  as  real  as  we  can  make  it.  I'm  negoti- 
ating now  for  an  old  schooner  that  I  can  scuttle 
out  at  sea.  All  the  company  will  be  aboard,  and 
they'll  drift  about  for  a  long  time  without  food 
and  water." 

"Am  I  supposed  to  be  in  on  that?"  asked  C.  C, 
suspiciously. 

"Of  course,"  was  the  theatrical  man's  answer. 
"This  is  a  circus  company  returning  from  abroad 
that  is  wrecked,  and  you  are  the  clown.  Be  as 
funny  as  you  can." 

"Wrecked?"  queried  C.  C. 

"That's  it." 

"And  I'm  to  be  funny?" 


84    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Certainly." 

"Without  food  and  water  for  days,  and  I'm 
expected  to  be  funny!"  exclaimed  the  comedian, 
with  a  groan.  "Oh,  why  did  I  ever  get  into  this 
business?  I'll  not  do  it!" 

"Oh  you're  only  supposed  to  be  starving  and 
thirsty,"  explained  Mr.  Ringold.  "If  you  want, 
you  can  take  some  sandwiches  and  cold  coffee 
with  you,  and  have  lunch — but  don't  do  it  when 
the  cameras  are  working.  It  wouldn't  look  well 
in  the  moving  pictures  to  have  a  note  on  the  screen 
saying  that  the  shipwrecked  persons  were  starv- 
ing, and  then  show  you  chewing  away ;  would  it, 
now?" 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  admitted  C.  C,  with  a 
sigh.  "Oh,  but  this  is  a  miserable  business, 
though !  I'm  sure  I'll  be  drowned  before  we  get 
through  with  it !" 

"Oh,  cheer  up!"  called  Miss  Lee,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  no  need  for  the  advice,  for  a  moment 
later  C.  C.  broke  forth  into  a  comic  song. 

While  the  preparations  for  producing  the  wreck 
scene  were  under  way,  there  was  small  need  for 
the  services  of  the  boys,  and  they  made  ready  to 
go  to  San  Francisco. 

"Even  if  he  has  gone  away  somewhere,"  sug- 
gested Blake,  "he  may  have  left  some  address 
where  you  can  reach  him." 


TO  SAN  FRANCISCO  85 

"Do  you  think  he'll  be  gone  ?"  asked  Joe. 

"Well,  if  he  left  the  lighthouse  in  a  hurry,  in- 
tending to  call  on  a  shipping  agent,  naturally  he 
wouldn't  stay  in  port  long,"  said  Blake.  "Be- 
sides  "  He  stopped  suddenly,  being  on  the 

verge  of  saying  something  that  would  give  Joe 
a  hint  of  the  truth. 

"What  is  it  ?"  asked  his  chum,  quickly.  "What 
were  you  going  to  say,  Blake?" 

"Nothing." 

"Yes,  you  were,  I'm  sure  of  it.  Blake,  is  there 
anything  you're  holding  back  from  me?" 

Joe  looked  earnestly  at  his  chum. 

"I — er — "  began  Blake — when  there  came  a 
knock  on  the  door. 

"What  is  it?"  called  Blake,  glad  of  the  inter- 
ruption. 

"Mr.  Ringold  wants  you  to  get  ready  to  take 
some  scenes  to-night,"  said  the  voice  of  Macaroni. 

"Scenes  at  night?"  inquired  Joe,  opening  the 
door,  and  forgetting  the  question  he  had  put  to 
his  chum. 

"Yes,"  went  on  their  young  helper.  "Flash- 
light scenes.  He  wants  you  at  once." 

The  boys  reported  to  their  superiors,  and 
learned  that  a  smuggling  scene,  to  fit  in  one  of 
the  sea  dramas,  was  to  be  attempted.  By  means 
of  powerful  flash  and  electric  lights,  the  current 


86    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

coming   over   cables    from   San    Diego,    it   was 
planned  to  make  views  at  night. 

As  this  was  an  unexpected  turn  to  affairs,  they 
had  to  postpone  their  trip  to  San  Francisco  for/ 
a  few  days.  The  night  pictures  came  out  well, 
however,  and  the  first  of  the  following  week  saw 
Joe  and  Blake  start  on  their  way  to  the  city  of 
the  Golden  Gate. 


A   STRANGE   CHARGE 

**ARE  you  going  to  take  a  camera  with  you, 
boys  ?"  asked  Mr.  Ringold,  as  Joe  and  Blake  were 
saying  good-bye  to  their  friend,  preparatory  to 
making  a  brief  stay  in  San  Francisco. 

"A  camera?    No.    Why?"  inquired  Blake. 

"Well,  I  happen  to  need  some  San  Francisco 
street  scenes  for  one  of  the  dramas,"  went  on  the 
theatrical  man;  "and  it  occurred  to  me  that  you 
could  get  them  when  you  weren't  busy." 

"Of  course  we  could,"  answered  Joe.     "We 

can  take  the  automatic,  and  set  it  up  wherever 

j  you  say,  and  go  looking  for  that  shipping  agent. 

When  we  come  back  we'll  have  all  the  pictures  we 

(need" 

"Good !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Ringold.  "Try  that, 
if  you  don't  mind.  Get  some  scenes  down  in  the 
financial  district,  and  others  in  the  residential  sec- 
tion. Then,  as  long  as  you  have  to  go  to  the  ship- 
ping offices,  get  some  there." 

87 


88    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

The  boys  promised  they  would,  and  added  the 
small  but  compact  automatic  camera  to  their  lug- 
gage as  they  started  off. 

This  camera  worked  by  compressed  air.  There 
was  a  small  motor  inside,  operated  by  a  cylinder 
of  air  that  could  be  filled  by  an  ordinary  bicycle 
pump.  Otherwise  it  was  just  like  the  other  mov- 
ing picture  cameras. 

There  was  the  upper  box,  in  which  was  wound 
the  unexposed  reel  of  film.  From  this  it  went  over 
a  roller,  and  the  cog  wheel,  which  engaged  in  the 
perforations,  thence  down  by  means  of  the  "gate," 
behind  the  lens  and  shutter.  There  two  claws 
reached  up  and  grasped  the  film  as  the  motor 
operated,  pulling  down  three-quarters  of  an  inch 
each  time,  to  be  exposed  as  the  shutter  was  auto- 
matically opened  in  front  of  the  lens. 

Each  one  of  the  thousands  of  moving  pictures, 
as  I  have  explained  in  previous  books,  is  three- 
quarters  of  an  inch  deep,  though,  of  course,  on 
the  screen  it  is  enormously  enlarged. 

After  the  film  has  been  exposed,  three-quarters 
of  an  inch  at  a  time,  it  goes  below  into  another 
light-tight  box  of  the  camera,  whence  it  is  re- 
moved to  be  developed  and  printed.  The  move- 
ment of  the  film,  the  operation  of  the  claws  and 
the  opening  and  closing  of  the  shutter,  making  it 


rA  STRANGE  CHARGE  80 

possible  to  take  sixteen  pictures  a  second,  was,  in 
this  camera,  all  controlled  by  the  air  motor. 

Joe  and  Blake  found  much  to  amuse  them  in 
San  Francisco,  which  they  had  never  before 
visited.  They  were  a  bit  "green,"  but  after  their 
experiences  in  New  York  they  had  no  trouble  in 
finding  their  way  around. 

"We'd  better  go  to  some  hotel,  or  boarding 
house,"  suggested  Joe,  after  their  arrival.  "Pick 
out  one  where  we  can  leave  the  camera  working 
while  we're  gone." 

They  did  this,  being  fortunate  enough  to  secure 
rooms  in  a  good,  though  not  expensive,  hotel  near 
the  financial  district.  One  of  their  windows 
looked  directly  out  on  a  busy  scene. 

"That'll  be  just  the  place,  and  the  sort  of  scene 
Mr.  Ringold  wants,"  declared  Blake.  "Let's  set 
the  camera  there  on  the  sill  and  see  what  it  gets. 
The  light  is  good  to-day." 

It  was,  the  sun  shining  brightly,  and  being  di- 
rectly back  of  the  camera,  which  would  insure  the 
proper  illumination. 

They  adjusted  the  machine,  and  set  the 
mechanism  to  go  off  about  an  hour  after  they  had 
left  the  room.  Then  they  went  to  find  the  ship- 
ping agent,  to  see  if  they  could  get  any  news  of 
Joe's  father. 

But,  to  their  disappointment,  he  was  out,  and 


90    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

none  of  the  clerks  could  tell  them  what  they 
wanted  to  know.  They  were  directed  to  return 
the  next  day. 

"More  disappointment!"  exclaimed  Joe.  "It 
does  seem  as  if  I  was  up  against  it,  Blake." 

"Oh,  don't  worry.  To-morrow  will  do  just  as 
well  as  to-day.  And  you  don't  want  to  get  in 
C.  C.'s  habit,  you  know." 

"No,  that's  right.    Well,  what  shall  we  do  ?" 

"Let's  look  around  a  bit,  and  then  go  see  how 
the  camera  is  working." 

They  found  so  much  to  interest  them  in  the 
streets  of  San  Francisco  that  they  did  not  go  back 
to  the  hotel  as  soon  as  they  had  intended.  When 
they  did  reach  the  street  on  which  it  stood  they 
saw  a  crowd  gathered. 

"Look  at  that!"  cried  Blake. 

"Yes!  Maybe  it's  a  fire!"  exclaimed  Joe. 
"Our  camera •" 

"There's  no  fire,  or  else  we'd  see  some  smoke," 
answered  his  chum.  "But  we'll  see  what  it  is. 
There's  been  some  sort  of  an  accident,  that's 
sure." 

They  broke  into  a  run,  pushing  their  way 
through  the  throng  about  the  front  doors  of  the 
hotel.  As  they  entered  the  lobby,  they  were  sur- 
prised to  see  the  clerk  point  his  finger  at  th«n, 
and  exclaim : 


M  STRANGE  CHARGE  9r 

"There  are  the  two  lads  now !" 

Everyone  turned  to  look  at  Joe  and  Blake,  and 
a  man,  dressed  in  some  sort  of  uniform,  ap- 
proached them. 

"Are  you  the  lads  that  have  rooms  sixty-six 
and  sixty-seven  ?"  he  asked,  sharply. 

"Yes,"  replied  Blake. 

"Why,  has  anything  happened  there?"  asked 
Joe. 

"Well,  yes,  there  has,  and  we  thought  perhaps 
you  could  explain." 

"Have  we  been  robbed?"  burst  out  Blake. 

"Robbed?  No,"  answered  the  clerk.  "But " 

"Perhaps  I  had  better  explain,"  put  in  the  uni- 
formed man.  "I  think  I  shall  have  to  ask  you 
boys  to  come  with  me,"  he  went  on. 

"Come  where  ?"  Joe  wanted  to  know. 

"To  police  headquarters." 

"What  for?"  burst  out  Blake.  "We  haven't 
done  anything !  We  only  came  here  to " 

"Be   careful,"   warned   the  man   in   uniform. 
"Whatever  you  say  may  be  used  against  you." 
,      "Why— why?"  stammered  Joe.    "What's  it  all 
about?" 

"An  infernal  machine!"  exclaimed  the  hotel 
clerk.  "How  dare  you  poke  one  out  of  the  win- 
dow, right  toward  one  of  our  largest  banks,  and 


92    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

go  out,  leaving  the  mechanism  clicking?     How 
dare  you?" 

Joe  and  Blake  staggered  back,  half  amused  and 
half  alarmed  at  the  strange  charge. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ON   A   LONG  VOYAGE 

"THIS  is  a  serious  charge,"  went  on  the  man  in 
uniform,  who  was  evidently  from  the  police  de- 
partment. "We  have  had  some  dynamiting  out- 
rages here,  and  we  don't  want  any  more." 

"Dynamite!"  exclaimed  the  hotel  clerk;  "do 
you  think  it  could  be  that,  officer  ?" 

"That's  what  it  seems  like  to  me,"  said  the 
other.  "I  have  investigated  a  number  of  infernal 
machines,  and  they  all  make  the  same  sort  of 
sound  before  they  go  off." 

"Go  off!"  cried  the  clerk,  while  Joe  and  Blake 
were  vainly  endeavoring  to  get  in  a  word  that 
would  explain  matters.  "If  it's  dynamite,  and 
goes  off  here,  it  will  blow  up  the  hotel.  Get  it 
away!  Porter,  go  up  and  get  that  infernal  ma- 
chine, and  dump  it  in  a  pail  of  water." 

'  'Scuse  me !"  exclaimed  the  colored  porter,  as 
he  made  a  break  for  the  door.  "I — I  guess  as 

93 


94    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

how  it's  time  fo'  me  to  sweep  off  de  sidewalk.  It 
hain't  been  swept  dish  yeah  day,  as  yit  I'se 
gwine  outside." 

"But  we've  got  to  get  rid  of  that  infernal  ma- 
chine!" insisted  the  clerk.  "It's  been  clicking 
away  now  for  some  time,  and  there's  no  telling 
when  it  may  go  off.  Get  it,  somebody — throw  it 
out  of  the  window." 

"No!  Don't  do  that!"  cried  the  officer.  "That 
will  only  make  it  go  off  the  sooner.  I'll  get  some 
one  from  the  bureau  of  combustibles  and " 

"Say,  you're  giving  yourselves  a  needless  lot 
of  alarm!"  interrupted  Blake.  "That's  no  in- 
fernal machine !" 

"No  more  than  that  ink  bottle  is!"  aded  Joe, 
pointing  to  one  on  the  clerk's  desk. 

"But  it  clicks,"  insisted  the  clerk.  "It  sounds 
just  like  a  clock  ticking  inside  that  box." 

"And  it's  pointing  right  at  the  bank,"  went  on 
the  officer.  "That  bank  was  once  partly  wrecked 
because  it  was  built  by  non-union  labor,  and  we 
don't  want  it  to  happen  again." 

"There's  no  danger — not  the  slightest,"  cried 
Blake,  while  the  crowd  in  the  hotel  lobby  pressed 
around  him.  "That's  only  an  automatic  moving 
picture  camera,  that  we  set  this  morning,  and 
pointed  out  of  the  window  to  take  street  scenes. 
It  works  by  compressed  air,  and  the  clicking  you 


'ON  A  LONG  VOYAGE  93 

hear  is  the  motor.  Come,  I'll  show  you,"  and 
he  started  toward  his  room,  followed  by  Joe. 

"Is — is  that  right?"  asked  the  hotel  clerk, 
doubtfully. 

"Are  you  sure  it  isn't  dynamite?"  inquired  the 
officer. 

"Well,  if  we're  not  afraid  to  take  a  chance  in 
going  in  the  same  room  with  what  you  call  an 
infernal  machine,  you  ought  not  to  be,"  said  Joe, 
with  a  smile. 

This  was  logic  that  could  not  be  refuted,  and 
they  followed  the  boys  to  the  room.  There,  just 
where  they  had  left  it,  was  the  camera,  the  motor 
clicking  away  industriously.  It  worked  inter- 
mittently, running  for  five  minutes,  and  then  ceas- 
ing for  half  an  hour,  so  as  not  to  use  up  the  reel 
of  film  too  quickly.  Also,  it  made  a  diversity  of 
street  scenes,  an  automatic  arrangement  swinging 
the  lens  slightly  after  each  series  of  views,  so  as 
to  get  the  new  ones  at  a  different  angle. 

"Now  we'll  show  you,"  said  Blake,  as,  having 
noted  that  all  the  film  was  run  out,  and  was  in 
the  light-tight  exposed  box,  he  opened  the  camera 
and  showed  the  harmless  mechanism.  Several  of 
the  hotel  employes  crowded  into  the  room,  once 
they  learned  there  was  no  danger. 

The  boys  explained  the  working  of  the  ap- 
paratus, and  this  seemed  to  satisfy  the  officer. 


96    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"But  we  were  surely  suspicious  of  you  at  first," 
he  said,  with  a  smile. 

"Yes,"  said  the  clerk.  "A  chambermaid  called 
my  attention  to  the  clicking  sound  when  she  was 
making  up  the  room.  I  investigated,  and  when 
I  heard  it,  and  saw  the  queer  box,  and  remem- 
bered that  we  had  had  dynamiting  here,  I  sent  for 
the  police." 

"We're  sorry  to  have  given  you  a  scare,"  said 
Blake,  and  then  the  incident  was  over,  and  the 
crowd  in  the  street  dispersed  on  learning  there 
was  to  be  no  sensation. 

"Say,  I  think  there's  some  sort  of  hoodoo  about 
us,"  remarked  Joe,  as  he  and  Blake  sat  in  their 
room. 

"Why,  you're  not  going  to  come  any  of  that 
gloomy  C.  C.  business  on  me;  are  you?"  asked 
Blake. 

"Not  at  all,"  went  on  his  chum.  "But  what  I 
mean  by  a  hoodoo  is  that  something  always  seems 
to  happen  when  we  start  out  anywhere.  We've 
been  on  the  jump,  you  might  say,  ever  since  we 
lost  our  places  on  the  farms  and  got  into  this 
moving  picture  business." 

"That's  so.  And  the  latest  is  being  taken  for 
dynamiters." 

"Yes.  But  if  things  are  going  to  keep  on  hap- 
pening to  us  I  wish  they'd  take  a  turn  and  help 


'ON  A  LONG  VOYAGE  97 

me  find  my  father,"  went  on  Joe.  "You  don't 
know  how  it  feels,  Blake,  to  know  you've  got  a 
parent  somewhere  and  not  be  able  to  locate  him. 
It's — why,  it's  almost  as  bad  as  if — as  if  he  were 
dead,"  and  Joe  spoke  the  words  with  an  obvious 
effort. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Blake,  and  then  there 
came  to  him  the  memory  of  what  the  lighthouse 
keeper  had  said  about  Mr.  Duncan  being  impli- 
cated in  the  wrecking.  If  this  was  true,  it  might 
be  better  for  Joe  not  to  find  his  father. 

"But  he  may  not  be  guilty,"  thought  Blake,  and 
he  mused  on  this  possibility,  while  Joe  looked 
curiously  at  his  chum. 

"Say,  Blake,"  suddenly  asked  Joe.  "What's 
the  matter?" 

"Matter?  Why,  what  do  you  mean?"  asked 
Blake,  with  a  start. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  but  something  seems  to  be 
the  matter  with  you.  You've  acted  strangely  of 
late,  ever  since — yes,  ever  since  we  were  at  the 
lighthouse.  Is  anything  troubling  you?" 

"No — no — not  at  all ;  that  is,  not  exactly." 

"You  don't  speak  as  if  you  meant  it." 

"But  I  do,  Joe.  There's  nothing  the  matter 
with  me — really  there  isn't." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  of  it.  If  there  is,  and  you 
need  help,  don't  forget  to  come  to  me.  Remember 


98    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

we're  pards,  and  chums,  not  only  in  the  moving 
picture  business,  but  in  everything  else,  Blake. 
Anything  I've  got  is  yours  for  the  asking." 

"That's  good  of  you,  Joe,  and  if  you  can  help 
me  I'll  let  you  know.  I  didn't  realize  that  I  was 
acting  any  way  strange.  I  must  brighten  up  a 
bit.  I  guess  we've  both  been  working  too  hard. 
We  need  some  amusement.  Let's  go  to  a  moving 
picture  show  to-night,  and  see  how  they  run 
things  here,  and  what  sort  of  films  they  have. 
We  may  even  see  one  of  our  own." 

"All  right.  I'll  go  you.  We  can't  see  that 
shipping  agent  until  to-morrow.  A  moving  pic- 
ture show  for  ours  to-night,  then.  Though,  being 
in  the  business,  as  we  are,  it's  rather  like  a  fireman 
going  around  to  the  engine-house  on  his  day  off, 
and  staying  there — a  queer  sort  of  a  day's  vaca- 
tion." 

But,  nevertheless,  they  thoroughly  enjoyed  the 
moving  picture  play,  interspersed,  as  it  was,  with 
vaudeville  acts.  Among  the  films  were  several 
that  Mr.  Ringold's  company  had  posed  for,  and 
several  that  the  boys  themselves  had  taken.  The 
reels  were  good  ones,  too,  the  pictures  standing 
out  clear  and  bright  as  evidence  of  good  work  on 
the  part  of  the  boys  and  Mr.  Hadley. 

"Had  enough  ?"  asked  Joe,  after  about  an  hour 
spent  in  the  theatre. 


VN  A  LONG  VOYAGE  99 

"Yes,  let's  go  out  and  take  a  walk." 

"Feel  any  brighter?"  went  on  Joe. 

"Yes,  I  think  I  do,"  and  Blake  linked  his  arm 
in  that  of  Joe,  wondering  the  while,  as  they 
tramped  on,  how  he  should  ever  break  the  news 
to  his  chum,  in  case  Joe  himself  did  not  find  it 
out.  "The  only  hope  is  that  he  isn't  guilty," 
mused  Blake,  "and  yet  running  away  just  before 
the  accusation  was  made  public  looks  bad,  just  as 
Mr.  Stanton  said.  However,  I'm  not  going  to 
think  about  it."  As  long  as  it  had  gone  thus  far 
without  any  outsider  giving  away  the  secret  to 
Joe,  his  chum  began  to  feel  that  there  was  little 
danger. 

"Well,  you  haven't  any  more  infernal  ma- 
chines; have  you,  boys?"  the  hotel  clerk  asked 
them  when  they  came  in  to  get  their  keys.  "Be- 
cause, if  you  have,  just  keep  quiet  about  'em.  I 
don't  want  to  be  awakened  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  with  some  one  from  the  bureau  of  com- 
bustibles coming  down  here,"  and  he  laughed. 

"No,  we're  all  out  of  dynamite,"  responded 
Blake,  in  the  same  spirit. 

He  and  Joe  were  early  at  the  office  of  the 
sailing  master,  who  made  a  specialty  of  fitting 
out  vessels  with  crews.  With  a  rather  trembling 
voice  Joe  asked  for  information  about  Mr. 
Duncan. 


100 

"Duncan — Duncan,"  mused  the  agent,  as  he 
looked  over  his  books.  "Seems  to  me  I  remem- 
ber the  name.  Was  he  the  Duncan  from  some- 
where down  the  coast?" 

"The  Rockypoint  light,"  supplied  Joe. 

"Oh,  yes,  now  I  know.  But  why  are  you  ask- 
ing?" and  the  agent  turned  a  rather  suspicious 
look  on  Joe.  "Is  there  anything  wrong — is  Mr. 
Duncan  wanted  for  anything?  I  always  try  to 
protect  my  clients,  you  know,  and  I  must  find 
out  why  you  are  asking.  Has  he  committed  any 
crime,  or  is  he  wanted  by  anyone?" 

Blake  started  at  the  coincidence  of  the  words. 

"Yes,"  answered  Joe;  "he  is  wanted  by  me — 
I'm  his  son,  and  I'd  like  very  much  to  find  him. 
We  found  some  of  his  letters,  and  there  was  one 
from  you  about  a  berth  you  might  have  vacant." 

"That's  right,  my  boy,  and  I'm  glad  to  learn 
that  is  why  you  want  Nate  Duncan,  for  he  and 
I  are  friends  in  a  way." 

"But  has  he  shipped?"  asked  Joe,  eagerly. 

"He  has,"  answered  the  agent.  "He  signed 
for  a  trip  to  China,  and  it  will  be  a  good  while 
before  he  gets  back  here,  I'm  afraid.  It's  a  long 
voyage." 

"To  China!"  cried  Joe.  "Oh,  if  he  had  only 
received  my  letter  he  would  be  here  now  with 
me.  Poor  Dad!" 


A  MIMIC  FIRE 

"SoRRY  I  can't  do  any  more  for  you,"  went  on 
the  agent,  after  a  pause,  during  which  he  gazed 
sympathetically  at  Joe.  "I  can  give  you  the  name 
of  the  vessel  your  father  is  on,  and  you  can  write 
to  Hong  Kong,  but  it  will  be  some  time  before  she 
arrives.  She's  a  sailing  ship,  you  know,  one  of 
the  few  left  in  the  trade." 

"I  didn't  know  my  father  was  a  regular  sailor," 
said  Joe. 

"You  didn't  know  he  was  a  sailor?  Say,  don't 
you  know  your  father's  business?" 

"It's  been  a  good  many  years  since  I've  seen 
him,"  spoke  Joe.  "In  fact,  I  can't  remember 
him,"  and  he  told  something  of  how  he  came  to 
be  on  the  strange  quest. 

"Well,  this   is   certainly  odd,"   remarked  the 

agent.     "I've  known  Nate  some  years,  more  or 

less,  and  I've  often  heard  him  speak  of  a  son  he 

had  lost  track  of.    Of  late  he  had  given  up  hope." 

101 


102     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST. 

"And  just  when  I  was  on  the  verge  of  finding 
him,"  added  Joe. 

"His  daughter,  too,"  continued  the  agent.  "He 
said  he  felt  sure  he'd  never  locate  her,  though  he'd 
spent  lots  of  money  in  hunting.  And  he  felt 
pretty  bad,  too,  over  the  thought  that  he  might 
never  see  his  children  again." 

"And  have  I  really  a  sister?"  asked  Joe,  eagerly. 

"I  can't  rightly  say,"  spoke  the  shipping  mas- 
ter. "You  had  one,  but  whether  she's  alive  now 
or  not  no  one  seems  to  know.  There's  one  satis- 
faction, though,  you  can  find  your  father  in  time, 
and  as  soon  as  he  hears  from  you,  when  his  ship 
reaches  Hong  Kong,  he  won't  lose  any  time  taking 
the  fastest  steamer  back.  I  know  Nate  Duncan 
well  enough  for  that." 

"Will  he,  though?"  thought  Blake.  "Will  he 
come  back  when  he  knows  of  the  wrecking  charge 
that  may  be  made  against  him?  Even  the  pros- 
pect of  seeing  Joe  may  not  overbalance  that.  Yet, 
I  suppose  he  could  send  for  Joe.  They  couldn't 
make  any  charge  against  him  over  in  China.  But 
it's  a  bad  business." 

Joe  talked  a  little  longer  with  the  agent,  who 
gave  him  the  name  of  the  ship  on  which  Mr. 
Duncan  had  sailed,  and  also  directions  how  to 
address  the  letter. 

"Well,  there's  no  use  staying  in  'Frisco  much 


A  MIMIC  FIRE  I03 

longer,"  said  Joe,  as  they  finished  their  business. 
"We'll  get  what  other  moving  pictures  of  street 
scenes  we  want,  and  as  I  can't  find  Dad  here, 
we'll  leave.  We'll  get  back  to  San  Diego,  and 
out  to  the  beach  colony  to  film  some  more 
dramas." 

A  return  trip  to  their  hotel,  a  visit  to  various 
localities  for  films,  then  to  pack  their  belongings 
—and  the  automatic  camera  did  not  take  them 
long — and  they  were  soon  journeying  down  the 
coast  again.  They  were  welcomed  warmly  by  the 
members  of  the  theatrical  colony. 

As  I  have  said,  for  the  purpose  of  being  un- 
hampered in  their  work  of  taking  films,  Mr. 
Ringold  had  moved  his  company  from  San  Diego 
proper  to  a  small  fishing  settlement,  directly  on 
the  beach.  This  place  was  called  Chester,  after 
the  man  who  owned  the  fishery  there.  He  had  a 
fleet,  consisting  of  several  motor  boats,  in  which 
the  fishermen  went  out  twice  each  day  to  pull  up 
the  nets  that  were  fast  to  long  poles,  sunk  into 
the  sand  of  the  ocean  bed  in  water  about  forty 
feet  deep. 

The  fish  were  brought  to  the  main  building, 
and  packed  in  ice  for  transportation.  Numbers 
of  local  dealers  called  each  day  with  wagons  to 
get  a  load  to  peddle  about.  There  were  only  a 
few  houses  in  the  place,  and  a  store  or  two. 


104     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST\ 

Once  some  millionaire  had  built  an  elaborate 
cottage  on  the  beach,  but  gave  it  up  for  some 
whim.  It  was  in  this  cottage,  which  in  size  was 
almost  a  mansion,  that  the  moving  picture  boys 
and  their  friends  had  their  abode.  A  boarding 
mistress  was  installed,  and  thus  the  actors  and 
actresses  lived  right  at  the  scene  of  their  work, 
with  almost  as  much  comfort  as  they  would  have 
had  in  a  hotel.  The  place  was  not  far  from  San 
Diego,  and  it  had  the  advantage  of  a  heavy  surf 
on  the  beach,  the  big  waves  making  just  the  back- 
ground Mr.  Ringold  wanted.  Of  course,  not  all 
the  scenes  were  on  the  water-front,  some  taking 
place  in  front  of,  or  within,  some  of  the  cottages, 
which  were  hired  for  the  short  time  needed.  The 
fishermen  could  not  seem  to  understand  why  a 
man  should  pay  them  good  money  for  the  use  of 
their  humble  dwellings  for  a  short  time. 

"It  just  seems  plumb  foolishness,"  declared  one 
grizzled  salt.  "I  don't  see  why  folks  want  to 
make  so  many  pictures  of  men  and  women  walkin* 
in  and  out  of  my  cottage  and  sayin'  such  out- 
landish things  like :  'Gal,  you  shall  give  me  them 
papers !'  or,  'Meet  me  on  yonder  cliff  at  midnight !' 
I  give  up!" 

"It  does  seem  out  of  reason,  Pete,"  agreed  an- 
other. "But  as  long  as  they  pay  me  for  it,  and 
don't  go  to  bustin'  up  things,  I'm  willin'." 


'A  MIMIC  FIRE  105 

"Oh,  so'm  I.  Keep  it  up,  I  says,"  and  Mr. 
Ringold  did,  using  different  cottages  in  turn  to 
get  a  diversity  of  views. 

Sympathy  was  expressed  for  Joe  on  the  failure 
of  his  mission  to  find  his  father. 

"But  don't  you  give  up !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Had- 
ley.  "China  is  far  off,  but  it  isn't  out  of  the 
world.  Don't  give  up,  Joe." 

"I'll  not.  I'm  going  to  write  to  him  to-day," 
and  he  did,  dispatching  the  latter  to  far-off  Hong 
Kong. 

There  was  plenty  of  work  waiting  for  the  boys, 
some  new  manuscripts  of  sea  dramas  having  come 
in.  ,  Mr.  Ringold  decided  to  film  several  of  them, 
and  rehearsals  were  already  under  way. 

"I'm  going  to  have  a  novelty  in  one  of  the 
plays,"  said  the  manager.  "It's  going  to  be  a 
fire  scene.  We'll  buy  one  of  these  cottages,  or 
else  have  one  built  that  will  do  well  enough  for 
picture  purposes,  and  set  it  ablaze.  Then,  when 
C.  C.  comes  running  out,  carrying  Miss  Shay — 
or  maybe  Miss  Lee,  for  she's  lighter — we'll " 

"Hold  on  there!"  called  the  comedian.  "Did 
I  understand  you  to  say  I  had  to  rush  out  of  a 
burning  building?" 

"That's  it,  C.  C." 

"But  to  rush  out  I've  got  to  go  in ;  haven't  I  ?" 

"Why,  naturally,  C.  C." 


"Then  I  serve  notice  here  and  now  that  I  re- 
sign. I'm  tired  of  being  an  actor.  I'm  going 
into  the  coal  business,"  and  he  stopped  making 
odd  faces  in  the  glass,  practicing  some  facial  con- 
tortions for  a  new  clown  act,  and  began  to  dress 
as  though  to  go  out. 

"Hold  on,  C.  C;  what's  the  matter?"  asked 
Mr.  Ringold. 

"Plenty!  If  you  think  I'm  going  to  run  the 
risk  of  being  burned  to  death  you've  got  another 
guess  coming.  I'm  through." 

"Why,  C.  C,"  spoke  the  theatrical  manager, 
with  a  laugh;  "there's  no  danger." 

"Not  in  going  into  a  burning  building,  even 
if  it  is  only  a  fisherman's  shanty!  No  danger!" 

"No.  Listen.  You  go  in  before  the  building 
is  afire.  The  blaze  is  started  from  the  outside 
by  your  enemy,  and  with  some  red  fire,  which 
makes  a  lot  of  smoke,  we  can  show  on  the  screen 
some  pictures  that  will  look  like  a  real  fire.  Then 
out  you  rush,  before  the  flames  have  had  a  chance 
to  spread,  and  after  you  and  the  lady  are  safe,  the 
fire  gains  great  headway,  and  the  cottage  burns 
to  the  ground.  But  the  pictures  are  being  taken 
all  the  while,  and  it  will  show  up  great !  There's 
not  a  bit  of  danger." 

"Not  that  way,"  said  Miss  Lee.  "I'm  willing 
to  do  my  part,  Mr.  Ringold." 


A  MIMIC  FIRE  107 

"Well,  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  also,"  spoke  C.  C., 
with  a  sigh.  "But  I  know  something  will  happen. 
Some  sparks  will  fall  on  me  and  scorch  me,  any- 
how, I'm  sure." 

"Oh,  Gloomy!"  reproachfully  exclaimed  Miss 
Shay.  "Do  look  on  the  bright  side  for  once." 

"There  isn't  any,"  asserted  the  comedian,  as  he 
resumed  his  practice  of  making  strange  faces. 

Mr.  Ringold  succeeded  in  purchasing,  for  a 
moderate  sum,  one  of  the  older  cottages,  and  it 
was  put  in  shape  for  its  share  in  the  moving 
picture  story,  some  changes  being  necessary.  The 
fisherman  and  his  family  moved  out,  glad  of  the; 
chance  to  better  themselves. 

"We  won't  say  anything  about  planning  to  fire 
the  shack,"  declared  Mr.  Ringold  to  the  boys  and 
the  members  of  his  company.  "If  we  do  it  will 
attract  a  crowd,  and  that's  just  what  we  don't 
want.  The  fewer  the  better.  Now  we'll  go  over 
to  the  shack,  and  have  a  rehearsal." 

"A  dress  one  ?"  asked  Mr.  Piper,  meaning  that 
everything  would  be  done  just  as  if  the  pictures 
were  being  taken.    "You're  not  going  to  have  the 
|  real  fire  now ;  are  you  ?" 

"No,  indeed,"  said  the  manager.  "We  can 
only  burn  the  cottage  down  once." 

The  rehearsal  went  off  well,  and  Blake  and  Joe, 
who  were  to  make  the  films,  watched  the  work 


108     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

with  interest.  They  were  anxious  for  the  time 
to  come  to  set  the  fire. 

"Well,  I  guess  that  will  do,"  decided  Mr. 
Ringold,  after  a  day  or  two  spent  in  getting  the 
actors  and  actresses  familiar  with  their  parts. 
"We'll  do  the  business  to-morrow  morning." 

Accordingly,  they  all  assembled  at  the  shack, 
and  went  through  the  various  acts  leading  up  to 
the  fire  scene.  The  boys  ground  away  indus- 
triously at  the  handles  of  the  moving  picture 
cameras. 

All  went  well  until  it  came  time  to  set  the  fire. 
Then,  whether  the  building  was  older  and  more 
tinder-like  than  was  supposed,  or  whether  Mr. 
Levinberg,  the  "villain"  who  fired  the  shack,  used 
too  much  red  fire  and  kerosene,  was  not  explained. 

At  any  rate,  the  little  building  was  more 
quickly  wrapped  in  flame  and  smoke  than  was 
expected,  and  Mr.  Ringold  yelled  excitedly: 

"Come  on  out,  C.  C. !  Don't  wait  any  longer. 
Never  mind  if  it  isn't  time!  Rush  out  with  the 
girl  before  it's  too  late!" 

"That's  what  I'll  do!"  cried  the  comedian, 
appearing  in  the  doorway,  carrying  Miss  Lee. 
There  was  little  danger  now,  as  long  as  he  was 
in  the  open,  unless  some  tongue  of  fire  should 
catch  the  girl's  dress. 


A  MIMIC  FIRE  109 

"Hurry !"  cried  the  manager,  and  C  C.  sprinted 
out  of  the  reach  of  the  fire. 

And  then  something"  entirely  unexpected,  and 
not  down  on  the  bill,  happened.  A  number  of 
fishermen,  who  had  seen  the  blaze  from  down  the 
beach,  came  running  up,  all  excited,  thinking  the 
fire  was  an  accident. 

"Get  that  old  pumping  engine?"  shouted  one 
grizzled  salt.  "We'll  have  that  blaze  out  in  no 
time!" 

"Form  a  bucket  brigade!"  suggested  another. 

"No !  No !  Let  it  burn !"  cried  Mr.  Ringold 
"We  want  it  to  burn !" 

"Want  it  to  burn  ?"  was  shouted  at  him,  by  the 
fisherman  who  had  proposed  the  pump.  "Be  you 
plumb  crazy?  Come  on,  boys,  form  that  bucket 
brigade.  Some  of  you  run  that  hand-pump  over 
here  where  we  can  pour  water  in  the  tank.  Stretch 
the  hose!" 

"They'll  spoil  the  picture !"  cried  Mr.  Ringold, 
rushing  about,  and  trying  to  keep  the  fishermen 
away. 

Joe  and  Blake,  not  having  orders  to  the  con- 
trary, and  not  knowing  but  what  this  was  all  part 
of  the  play,  continued  to  grind  away  at  their 
cameras,  two  reels  of  this  play  being  taken,  as  an 
additional  one  was  needed. 

"Here  she  comes !"  cried  the  fisherman,  as  some 


HO    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

of  his  companions  came  rushing  from  a  shed  with 

an  ancient  style  of  hand  fire-engine,  consisting  of 

a  tank,  on  wheels,  with  a  force-pump  arrange- 

>  ment,  worked  by  long  handles.    Water  was  poured 

•  in  the  tank  by  means  of  buckets,  and  forced  out 

on  the  blaze  through  a  hose. 

"Bring  her  up  as  clost  as  ye  kin !"  directed  the 
self-appointed  chief  of  the  amateur  fire  depart- 
ment ;  "  'cause  our  hose  ain't  very  long.  Form 
lines  now,  and  dip  water  up  from  the  ocean.  Salt 
water  is  good  for  fires!" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ATTACKED   BY   A   SWORDFISH 

"DON'T  do  it !"  cried  Mr.  Ringold.  "Let  that 
fire  burn !" 

But  there  were  now  so  many  fishermen  rush- 
ing about  here  and  there  that  they  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  the  excited  theatrical  man,  who  issued 
orders  right  and  left. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  demanded  C.  C,  who 
had  gotten  off  to  one  side  with  the  girl  he  was 
supposed  to  have  "rescued"  from  the  burning 
cabin. 

"I  don't  know!"  cried  Mr.  Ringold.  "The 
whole  play  is  spoiled  by  those  fellows  butting  in. 
Hi,  there!"  he  called  to  Blake  and  Joe,  as  he  saw 
them  operating  the  cameras.  "Stop  the  reel !  We 
don't  want  any  of  this !" 

The  clicking  machines  grew  silent,  and  then 
the  boys  knew  that  something  was  wrong. 

Meanwhile,  the  hand  engine  was  placed  in  posi- 
tion. It  was  learned,  later,  that  the  fish  concern 
kept  it  for  use  in  cases  of  emergency.  There 
in 


112     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

had  been  some  small  blazes,  in  which  the  old 
engine  had  proved  its  worth. 

The  fishermen  knew  how  to  operate  it  to 
advantage,  too,  and  soon  a  double  line  of  them, 
extending  from  the  surf  to  the  tank,  began  pass- 
ing the  filled  buckets  up  one  side  and  the  empty 
ones  down  the  other.  As  the  tank  filled,  other 
men  worked  the  handles  and  a  stream  of  water 
was  soon  spurting  on  the  fire. 

"Quit  it!  Oh,  quit  it!"  begged  Mr.  Ringold. 
"I  want  that  shack  to  burn !" 

"He's  crazy — don't  mind  him!"  shouted  the' 
self-appointed  chief.  "We'll  soon  have  it  out 
now." 

"I'll  see  if  I  can  stop  them,"  said  C.  C,  for  the 
water  had  about  quenched  the  blaze,  and  it  was 
useless  to  try  to  go  on  with  the  play.  "They'll 
listen  to  me,"  the  comedian  declared 

He  rushed  forward,  but  at  that  moment  the 
hose  got  from  the  control  of  the  two  men  holding 
it.  The  nozzle  swung  around,  and  the  stream 
came  full  force  over  Christopher  Cutler  Piper, 
drenching  him  in  an  instant. 

"I  say  there — hold  on — shut  that  water  off! 
I — I'm  being  drowned!"  he  spluttered.  And  then, 
as  the  men  again  got  the  nozzle  under  control,  the 
comedian,  dripping  water  at  every  point,  walked 
away,  saying: 


"ATTACKED  BY  'A  SWORD  FISH  113 

"There,  I  told  you  something  would  happen!" 

"I  should  say  it  has!"  declared  Mr.  Ringold, 
for  once  agreeing  with  the  gloomy  actor. 

A  few  more  strokes  of  the  pump  handles,  a  few 
more  gallons  of  water,  and  the  fire,  which  had 
quickly  attacked  all  parts  of  the  cottage  at  once, 
died  out. 

"There !"  cried  Abe  Haskill,  the  old  fisherman- 
chief.  "We  saved  your  building  for  ye,  Mr. 
Ringold.  Ain't  no  use  in  buyin'  a  shack  an'  then 
havin'  it  burn  down — no  matter  if  it  ain't  wuth 
much.  We  saved  her  for  you,  though  at  one  time 
it  looked  pretty  dubious.  This  is  the  first  fire 
we've  had  in  some  time,  an'  I  reckon  we  got  a 
bit  rusty. 

"I  might  add,"  he  went  on,  "that  it's  cus- 
tomary, in  cases  where  a  volunteer  department 
saves  a  buildin'  from  destruction — it's  customary, 
I  say,  for  the  owner  to  donate  a  leetle  suthin'  to 
the  department.  In  this  case,  seein'  as  how  Jim 
Belton  sold  his  shack  to  you — why,  you're  the 
owner.  And,  as  I  say,  we  saved  her  for  you!" 
he  concluded,  proudly. 

"Yes,  I  see  you  did,"  remarked  Mr.  Ringold, 
dubiously.  "Now  I've  got  to  buy  another,  and 
burn  that  down,  for  this  play  is  spoiled." 

"What!    Did  you  want  her  to  bum?"  asked 


114    COVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST. 

Mr.  Haskill,  in  accents  of  horror.  "Did  you  want 
the  devourin'  element  to  consume  that  buildin'  ?" 

"I  did,"  replied  the  theatrical  man. 

"Well — I  vum!"  declared  the  volunteer  chief. 
"Boys,  we  made  a  mistake." 

"The  next  time  I'll  tell  the  inhabitants  here 
what  my  plans  are,"  went  on  Mr.  Ringold,  grimly. 
"I  told  you  I  wanted  it  to  burn." 

"I  know  you  did,"  admitted  the  chief;  "but  I 
thought  you  was  so  excited  you  didn't  know  what 
you  was  sayin'." 

"So  did  I,"  admitted  several  of  the  volunteer 
fire-fighters.  "It's  too  bad !" 

"Well,  you  meant  all  right,  anyhow,"  went  on 
Mr.  Ringold,  with  cheerful  philosophy;  "and  I'll 
make  the  department  a  donation.  But  next  time, 
please  don't  interfere.  I'll  set  another  shack  on 
fire  as  soon  as  I  can  arrange  to  buy  one,"  he  said 
to  his  company.  "Meanwhile  we'll  go  on  with 
another  drama.  Save  whatever  you  can  of  the 
films,"  he  added  to  Blake  and  Joe.  "Up  to  the 
time  the  firemen  broke  in  they'll  be  all  right. 
Next  time  I'll  be  more  explicit." 

"I  knew  something  would  happen,"  declared 
C.  C,  gloomily,  as  he  tried  to  wring  some  of  the 
water  from  his  clothes.  "I  didn't  burn,  but  I 
nearly  drowned." 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  return  to  their 


'ATTACKED  BY  A  SWORDFISH  115 

boarding  place  and  arrange  for  another  drama, 
rehearsals  for  which  would  take  place  in  a  day 
or  so. 

"Meanwhile,"  said  Mr.  Ringold  to  Joe  and 
Blake,  "you  may  have  a  little  time  off.  I  tell  you 
what  you  might  do.  We  could  use  a  fishing 
scene,  I  believe.  Suppose  you  go  out  in  one  of 
the  small  boats  here  and  get  a  series  of  views 
when  they  lift  their  nets." 

"The  very  thing!"  cried  Blake.  "We'll  do  it; 
eh,  Joe?" 

"Sure  thing!" 

"You  might,  in  fact,"  went  on  Mr.  Ringold, 
"show  the  whole  process  of  fishing,  from  the 
launching  of  the  boats  until  they  come  back  filled 
with  the  day's  catch." 

This  the  boys  arranged  to  do,  and  that  noon, 
when  the  power  boats  were  launched,  they  were 
on  hand  to  make  moving  pictures. 

The  craft,  as  I  have  explained,  were  "eased 
down"  the  sloping  beach,  by  means  of  rollers  and 
planks,  until  the  stern  was  just  at  the  edge  of  the 
surf.  The  motor  was  then  started,  the  boat  being 
still  held  fast  by  a  rope.  This  rope  was  fastened 
in  a  peculiar  knot,  so  that  one  man,  standing  near 
it,  could  loosen  it  with  one  pull  when  the  word 
was  given  to  "cut  loose." 

The  men  watched  the  rollers  with  practiced 


Il6    UOyiNG  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

eyes,  for  if  the  surf  was  heavy  the  boat  might  get 
into  the  trough,  on  being  launched,  and  capsize. 
Often  fishermen  are  drowned  in  this  way,  being 
struck  by  the  heavy  boat,  or  getting  under  it. 

With  the  engine  racing,  the  men  got  into  the 
boat.  One  remained  on  the  beach,  holding  the 
restraining  rope.  Another  took  his  place  at  the 
stern,  with  a  long  steering  oar  that  was  to  be  used 
to  get  her  bow  on  to  the  waves. 

A  particularly  large  wave  was  seen  coming  in. 

"Get  ready !"  ordered  the  captain. 

The  man  at  the  big  oar  took  his  place.  The 
boat  was  almost  afloat  now. 

"Cut  loose !"  came  the  order. 

The  man  at  the  rope  yanked  the  knot  loose. 
The  boat  slid  into  the  water  and  the  next  instant 
was  being  tossed  about  in  the  breakers,  the  man 
with  the  oar  forcing  her  head  around,  aided  by 
the  powerful  gasoline  engine  that  turned  the  pro- 
peller. The  craft  came  near  to  capsizing,  but  kept 
upright,  and  a  little  later  was  beyond  the  surf,  into 
deep  water,  speeding  out  to  the  nets  two  miles 
away. 

Blake  and  Joe,  working  by  turns,  got  some  fine 
views  of  the  launching.  Then,  getting  into  an- 
other of  the  fishing  boats  with  their  cameras,  and 
with  Macaroni  to  aid  them,  they  prepared  to  go 
out  to  the  fishing  grounds,  where  the  nets  were. 


ATTACKED  BY  *A  SWORDFISH  117 

"Say,  this  is  rough,  all  right !"  exclaimed  Blake, 
as  they  found  themselves  in  the  boiling,  frothing 
surf. 

"That's  what !"  agreed  Joe. 

"Let  me  out !  I  want  to  walk !"  pleaded  Maca- 
roni, who  was  not  very  fond  of  the  water. 

"You'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute!"  called  Abe 
Haskill,  who  was  captain  of  the  boat.  "Soon  as 
you  git  out  beyond  the  breakers  you  won't  mind 
it." 

And  they  found  that  they  did  not,  though  there 
was  some  motion,  as  there  was  quite  a  swell  on. 
They  reached  the  nets  safely,  and  while  the  meshes 
were  hauled  up,  bringing  a  good  catch  of  fish,  the 
moving  picture  boys  took  many  views.  It  was 
interesting  as  well  as  instructive. 

"This  would  make  a  good  educational  reel," 
suggested  Blake,  as  he  spread  his  legs  to  maintain 
his  balance  against  the  rocking  motion  of  the 
boat. 

"Indeed  it  would,"  observed  Joe.  "Look, 
there's  some  one  overboard!"  and  he  pointed  to 
one  of  the  other  boats. 

A  man  had  indeed  slipped  into  the  sea.  The 
moving  picture  boys  were  ready,  however,  and 
trained  one  of  the  cameras  on  the  fisherman,  who, 
laughing  at  his  mishap,  soon  swam  to  the  boat 
again,  and  was  pulled  in. 


Ii8     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

It  took  some  little  time  to  haul  the  nets,  but 
at  last,  with  their  own  boat  well  filled  with  flap- 
ping fish,  as  were  the  others,  Joe  and  Blake 
started  for  shore. 

"Well,  we  made  out  all  right,  I  think,"  said 
Blake,  as  he  looked  to  see  if  there  was  any  more 
film  left  in  his  machine. 

"Sure  we  did,"  declared  his  chum.  "If  we  had 
to  take  some  other  views  we  could." 

"We'll  want  some  of  the  landing  of  the  boats, 
and  the  carting  of  the  fish  up  to  the  sheds,"  Blake 
reminded  him. 

"That's  right,  we  will.    I  guess  I  can " 

Joe  did  not  finish  his  sentence.  At  that  moment 
there  came  a  jar  and  Blake  cried : 

"We've  hit  something!" 

"No,  something  has  hit  us  I"  corrected  one  of 
the  fishermen,  leaping  up,  and  grabbing  a  long, 
iron-shod  pole. 

"What  is  it?"  demanded  Joe. 

"A  pesky  swordfish.  He's  ramming  us,  and 
he  may  poke  a  hole  in  us !  If  I  can  get  a  chance 
I'll  jab  him!"  and  the  man  leaned  over  the  side. 
As  he  did  so  there  came  another  attack  on  the 
craft,  so  fierce  that  it  heeled  over,  and  the  man 
with  the  pole,  giving  a  cry,  was  flung  overboard. 


CHAPTER  XV 

SUSPICIOUS   ACTIONS 

"MAN  overboard!"  cried  several  of  the  fisher- 
men. 

"Yes,  and  with  a  pesky  swordfish  too  close  for 
comfort !"  added  Abe  Haskill.  "Stop  that  motor, 
Bunker;  we'll  have  to  pick  him  up." 

The  fisherman  who  was  called  to,  pulled  out 
the  switch,  thus  stopping  the  motor,  and  the  boat 
drifted  about  on  the  slowly  rising  and  falling 
billows. 

"Can  you  see  him?"  asked  the  captain  of  the 
man  who  acted  as  mate. 

"Yes,  he's  right  astern,  but  that  fish — — " 

"Is  he  coming  after  Jake?" 

"Full  tilt!" 

"Grab  that  prod,  one  of  you!"  yelled  the  cap- 
tain. "See  if  you  can  harpoon  him  with  it.  I'll 
git  out  the  duck  gun,  though  land  knows  it  ain't 
much  use  against  a  pesky  swordfish !" 

One  of  the  fishermen  picked  up  the  iron-shod 
pole  the  unfortunate  man  had  dropped  as  he  went 

119 


120     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

overboard,  and  stood  ready  to  cast  it  at  the  big 
fish,  which  could  be  seen  swirling  along  in  the 
water,  near  the  swimmer. 

"Say!"  cried  Blake  to  Joe.  "It  may  seem  a 
heartless  thing  to  do,  but  why  can't  we  get  some 
moving  pictures  of  this  ?" 

"We  can,"  decided  his  chum.  "We  can't  help 
any,  and  we  might  as  well  film  it." 

"Come  on,  then.  You  hold  the  camera  steady 
and  I'll  turn  the  handle." 

They  had  a  machine  all  in  readiness,  its  tripod 
shortened  so  that  the  lens  could  be  brought  close 
to  the  water. 

"He's  dived !"  cried  one  of  the  men. 

"Who — the  fish,  or  Jake?"  demanded  the  cap- 
tain. 

"Jake.  He  saw  the  fish  coming  at  him,  and  he 
went  under.  Lucky  he  did,  or  he  might  have  been 
cut  in  two." 

"Throw  that  prod;  can't  you?  I'll  have  this 
gun  ready  in  a  minute." 

The  captain  had  pulled  from  a  locker  an  old- 
fashioned,  double-barreled  duck  gun. 

"It's  loaded  with  slugs,"  he  called  to  the  boys, 
who  were  even  now  taking  moving  pictures  of  the 
strange  scene.  "I  carry  it  for  sharks,  but  it'll 
do  as  well  against  a  swordfish,  though  they  don't 
commonly  attack  men." 


SUSPICIOUS  ACTIONS  121 

"'Here  goes  for  a  cast !"  cried  the  man  with  the 
prod,  which  was  a  sort  of  boathook  without  the 
hook.  "I'll  see  if  I  can  spear  him !" 

Leaning  forward  he  threw  the  weapon  with  all 
his  force.  The  other  fishermen,  some  of  whom 
had  grasped  the  spare  oars  to  swing  the  boat 
around,  looked  eagerly  to  see  the  result. 

"Missed,  by  ginger!"  exclaimed  the  captain. 
"Here,  let  me  try.  Where's  Jake?" 

"Out  there.  He's  swimming  strong,"  was  the 
answer.  "The  pesky  fish  is  coming  back  at  him 
again." 

"Duck,  Jake,  duck!"  cried  the  captain,  as  he 
got  ready  with  the  gun.  "I'm  going  to  shoot. 
Get  down  out  of  the  way,  and  hold  your  breath. 
We'll  have  you  in  another  minute!" 

He  could  see  the  swordfish  plainly  now,  rush- 
ing directly  toward  the  swimmer.  The  man  heard 
and  followed  directions.  Deep  down  he  dived, 
and  the  fish  shot  directly  over  him. 

"Say,  that's  a  great  picture!"  cried  Blake. 

"That's  what !"  yelled  Joe,  and  then  his  voice 
was  drowned  in  the  report  of  the  gun,  which  was 
doubly  charged. 

"I  got  him !  By  cracky,  I  got  him !"  cried  the 
captain.  "That's  his  blood  showing." 

The  waves  were  indeed  red  with  the  blood  of 


the  big  fish,  and  a  moment  later  its  body  was  float- 
ing on  the  swells. 

"There's  Jake!"  cried  one  of  the  fishermen. 

"All  right!"  was  the  response.  "Throw  him 
a  line.  He's  in  no  danger  now." 

A  few  moments  later  the  man  was  safe  aboard, 
minus  his  boots,  which  he  had  kicked  off  in  the 
sea,  and  some  of  his  heavier  clothing. 

"That's  the  end  of  Mr.  Swordfish,"  murmured 
the  captain,  in  gratified  tones,  as  he  watched  the 
lifeless  body  sink.  "The  sharks  will  get  him. 
Are  you  all  right,  Jake?" 

"Sure.  It  was  hard  work,  though;  and  once 
I  thought  he  had  me.  I  dived  just  in  time." 

"That's  what  you  did,"  said  Blake.  "It  was  a 
great  exhibition,  and  when  it's  thrown  on  the 
screen  it  will  make  a  sensation,  I'm  sure." 

"Say,  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me  you  snapped 
what  happened  ?"  asked  the  fisherman,  in  surprise. 

"We  sure  did,"  declared  Joe.  "We  got  every 
move." 

"Plucky  lads,"  murmured  the  captain;  "and 
right  on  the  job,  too.  Start  the  motor,"  he  added 
to  the  man  in  charge  of  it. 

"We've  sprung  a  leak,  captain!"  exclaimed  a 
man  up  in  the  bow.  "Water's  coming  in." 

"It's  where  that  pesky  swordfish  rammed  us, 


'SUSPICIOUS  'ACTIONS  123 

I  reckon.  But  stuff  something  in  and  it  will  hold 
until  we  get  to  shore.  We  haven't  far  to  go." 

The  boat  was  soon  under  way  again,  and  offers 
of  aid  from  sister  craft  that  circled  around  were 
declined.  A  bundle  of  rags  served  to  stop  the 
inrush  of  most  of  the  water,  and  a  little  later  the 
craft,  with  its  load  of  fish,  was  hauled  up  on  the 
beach  by  means  of  a  tackle  and  fall,  horses  being 
the  motive  power.  Joe  and  Blake  got  pictures 
of  the  other  boats  making  a  similar  landing,  theirs 
being  the  first  in. 

"Well,  we  got  some  fine  views,"  said  Blake,  as 
he  and  his  chum  started  for  their  boarding  place. 

"We  sure  did,  and  something  unexpected,  too. 
I  never  counted  on  a  swordfish  attack." 

"No,  and  I  guess  the  fishermen  didn't  either. 
But  it  will  make  a  realistic  film,  as  Mr.  Hadley 
would  say." 

"It's  just  our  hoodoo  luck  again,"  went  on 
Joe.  "Something  out  of  the  ordinary  seems  to  be 
happening  all  the  while  to  us." 

"Well,  it's  better  than  monotony." 

"I  suppose  so.  But  I  wonder  what  it  will  be 
next?" 

The  boys  were  congratulated  on  their  success 
by  Mr.  Hadley  and  Mr.  Ringold,  and  the  films, 
when  developed  and  printed  a  little  later,  fur- 
nished a  series  of  fine  views. 


124    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

For  the  next  week  the  boys  had  little  time  to 
themselves.  The  drama  with  the  burning  shack 
was  enacted  over  again,  this  time  with  success, 
the  volunteer  firemen  not  throwing  any  water  on 
the  blaze.  Other  sea  dramas  were  also  made,  and 
then  came  a  period  of  rest,  in  which  Blake  and  Joe 
had  hardly  anything  to  do. 

"Say,"  exclaimed  Blake,  one  afternoon,  "let's 
go  for  a  walk  down  the  beach,  by  the  cliffs.  It's 
a  fine  day  and  it  will  do  us  good." 

"All  right,"  agreed  Joe.  "I  was  thinking  of 
paying  another  visit  to  the  lighthouse,  and  asking 
if  there  was  any  news  of  my  father;  but,  oi 
course,  there  can't  be." 

"Hardly,"  agreed  Blake,  thinking  that  the  only 
news  his  chum  would  get  there  would  be  bad. 

They  strolled  along  the  shore,  making  excur- 
sions here  and  there  as  something  attracted  them. 
Going  through  a  little  group  of  scrub  oak,  some- 
what back  from  the  shore,  and  climbing  a  slight 
elevation  to  get  a  view  of  the  Pacific,  the  boys 
were  startled,  as  they  were  about  to  emerge  into 
a  little  open  glade,  to  hear  voices. 

"Some  one  else  besides  us  out  here  to-day," 
spoke  Joe,  in  a  low  voice. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  his  chum.  "Keep  still 
until  we  see  who  it  is." 

Cautiously  they  advanced  until  they  stood  be- 


SUSPICIOUS  ACTIONS  i2< 

w 

hind  a  little  screen  of  trees,  and  were  gazing  into 
the  open  place.  They  saw  several  men  at  work 
erecting  some  sort  of  tower,  or  pile  of  rocks,  and 
on  top  of  it  was  mounted  a  large  lantern, 

"There — that  ought  to  show  pretty  well,"  re- 
marked one  of  the  men. 

"Yes,  and  be  seen  a  good  distance  out  to  sea," 
put  in  another.  "It's  just  in  the  right  place,  too ; 
for  the  rocks  extend  a  good  way  out,  and  you 
can't  see  'em  even  at  dead  low  water." 

"And  anything  drawing  more  than  ten  feet  will 
be  sure  to  strike  on  'em,"  suggested  a  third. 

'That's  right,  Sandy,"  came  the  retort.  "Have 
you  got  the  lantern  fixed  so  that  she'll  flash  like 
the  other?" 

"I  sure  have.  All  we've  gx>t  to  do  is  to  pull 
one  wire — this  way — and  the  light  is  shut  off. 
Another  pull,  and  she  gives  a  flash,  just  like  a 
revolving  light." 

"Good.    We'll  give  it  a  trial  to-night" 

"Say,  what  do  you  think  they  are?"  whispered 
Joe. 

"I  hardly  know,  and  yet " 

"Maybe  they're  experimenting  with  a  new  kind 
of  light?"  suggested  the  other  lad. 

"Experimenting?  Yes !"  spoke  Blake,  in  a  low., 
tense  voice.  "And  I  can  guess  what  they're  ex 
perimenting  for." 


126     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"What?" 

Blake  was  about  to  answer,  when  one  of  the 
men,  looking  in  the  direction  where  the  boys  were 
.concealed,  uttered  an  exclamation. 

"Hark!"  he  cried.  "I  think  I  heard  some- 
thing." 

"It  was  the  wind,"  declared  one. 

"A  bird  in  the  bushes,"  said  another. 

"I'm  going  to  see!"  declared  the  man.  And 
he  came  straight  toward  their  hiding  place. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

JOE   SUSPECTS   SOMETHING 

"WHAT'LL  we  do,  Blake?"  was  the  whispered 
question. 

"Stay  here,  I  guess.  If  we  run  they'll  see  us 
or  hear  us.  Besides,  we  haven't  done  anything 
to  run  for." 

"I  know  it,  but  those  men  look  like  ugly  cus- 
tomers. I  wonder  what  they  can  be  up  to  ?" 

"They  are — "  began  Blake,  and  then  he  pulled 
Joe  down  beside  him  in  the  bushes. 

"He's  turned  off  to  one  side,"  Blake  went  on. 
"He  hasn't  seen  us,  and  he  doesn't  know  just 
where  to  look.  He  may  pass  us  by.  Keep  still !" 

Together  they  crouched  down.  The  man 
looked  around  as  though  to  trace  the  noise  which 
had  been  made  when  Joe  accidentally  stepped  on 
a  stick,  which  broke  under  his  weight. 

"Don't  breathe,"  whispered  Blake,  with  his  lips 
close  to  Joe's  ear.  "I  think  he's  going  to  pass  us 
by." 

127 


128     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

The  man  paused,  seemed  as  if  about  to  come 
directly  for  them  again,  and  then  dashed  off  to 
one  side.  He  made  a  leap  into  the  bushes,  only 
to  discover  nothing,  as  his  chagrined  exclamation 
showed. 

"I  told  you  so!"  growled  one  of  his  com- 
panions. "It  was  only  the  wind." 

"The  wind  doesn't  break  sticks,"  was  the  snap- 
pish reply. 

"Then  it  was  a  bird — maybe  a  fishhawk." 

"Maybe,"  assented  the  man  who  had  started  to 
make  the  search.  "But  I  thought  some  one  was 

spying  on  us,  and  if  they  were "  He  did  not 

finish,  but  glared  angrily  around.  He  was  so 
close  to  the  boys  that  they  could  hear  his  rapid 
breathing,  but  the  leafy  screen  effectively  hid 
them  from  view.  "If  I  catch  any  one,"  he  went 
on,  "he'll  wish  he  never  ran  across  Hemp  Dan- 
forth !"  and  he  shook  a  big  fist. 

"Oh,  come  on !"  called  some  of  his  companions. 
"There's  lots  to  be  done  yet  before  we  get  this 
lantern  finished.  And  if  we  want  any  rich  pick- 
ings we'll  have  to  hustle  for  'em.  The  weather 
looks  like  it  was  going  to  break,  and  that  will  be 
j«st  what  we  want.  Come  on,  Hemp." 

"All  right,  I  will,  only  don't  talk  so  bold  and 
free." 

"Why  not?" 


JOE  SUSPECTS  SOMETHING  129 

"Because  some  one  might  be  spying  and  listen- 
ing to  us." 

"He's  got  that  on  his  mind  yet,"  laughed  one 
of  the  men.  "There's  no  one  around  here." 

"And  if  they  were,  what  could  they  pick  up?" 
demanded  another. 

"That's  all  right — it's  best  to  be  careful,"  said 
the  one  called  Hemp  Danforth.  "I'm  taking  no 
chances.  Some  of  us  might — well,  no  telling 
what  might  happen  to  us  if  we  was  to  be  found 
out." 

"Don't  talk  that  way,"  spoke  a  tall,  thin  man. 
"It  isn't  altogether  cheerful — especially  with 
what  work  we  have  on  hand.  Come  on,  now; 
let's  make  this  pillar  a  little  higher,  and  the  light 
will  show  better." 

"Say,  what  do  you  imagine  they  are  doing?" 
whispered  Joe.  "It's  a  queer  game,  Blake." 

"It  sure  is.  I've  about  made  up  my  mind  what 
they  are  up  to,  and  yet  I  may  be  wrong.  Let's 
wait  here  a  while  longer,  and  maybe  we  can  pick 
up  some  information  that  will  give  us  a  better 
clue." 

The  men  were  now  engaged  in  heaping  more 
stones  on  the  pile  where  the  lantern  had  set,  and 
were  making  so  much  noise  at  it  that  the  whis- 
pering of  the  boys  could  not  be  heard. 

"Any  special  vessels  in  view?"  asked  one  of 


I30     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST, 

the  men,  after  they  had  worked  away  for  some 
time  in  silence. 

"No,  but  there'll  sure  be  one  along  before  long. 
We  can  count  on  that.  Of  course,  we'll  have  to 
keep  the  light  going:  several  nights,  maybe,  but 
it'll  be  worth  while." 

"It  ought  to  fool  'em,  all  right,"  went  on  Hemp 
Danforth.  "If  it  hadn't  been  that  Nate  Duncan 
tripped  us  up,  and  didn't  come  across  with  that 
information  we  wanted,  we  wouldn't  have  all  this 
trouble." 

For  a  moment  Joe  seemed  to  stiffen  as  he  heard 
the  name,  and  then,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  he  turned 
to  Blake  and  said : 

"Did  you  hear  that?  These  men  know  my 
father.  They  used  his  name." 

"Yes,  but  keep  quiet !"  urged  Blake,  for  Joe  had 
raised  his  voice.  "We  don't  want  them  to  know 
we're  here." 

"But  they  know  my  father,  Blake,"  went  on 
Joe,  using  more  caution,  however,  in  his  tones. 
"I  must  speak  to  them.  Maybe  they  were 
associated  with  him  in  lighthouse  work,  and  this 
may  be  some  new  patent  lantern  they're  trying. 
Maybe  my  father  hasn't  gone  to  China  at  all,  and 
these  men  can  tell  where  he  is." 

Joe  made  a  move  as  though  to  leave  the 
screened  hiding  place  and  approach  the  men. 


JOE  SUSPECTS  SOMETHING  131 

"No — don't  go!"  whispered  Blake,  hoarsely, 
holding  his  chum  back.  "Stay  here,  Joe.  Don't 
speak  to  those  men!" 

"But  they  have  something  to  do  with  my 
father." 

"No  matter;  do  as  I  say,  please!  Believe  me, 
Joe,  I  can't  explain  now,  for  I  promised  I  would 
not.  But  you'll  understand — later.  Don't  ap- 
proach those  men?" 

"Why  not?" 

"Because — well,  I  can't  tell  you !" 

"Then  I'm  going!"  declared  Joe,  half  fiercely. 
"Blake,  I'm  sure  you're  keeping  something  from 
me.  I've  suspected  it  for  some  time,  for  you've 
looked  at  me  in  a  queer  fashion  when  I  spoke  of 
my  father.  Now  what  is  it?" 

"Really,  Joe,  it's  nothing — that  is " 

"Yes,  it  is  something.  If  you  don't  tell  me  I'll 
go  out  there  and  take  the  consequences !" 

Joe  broke  from  Blake's  restraining  grasp  as 
he  whispered  this,  and  was  about  to  dash  for  the 
bushes,  when  Hemp  Danforth,  dashing  down  a 
stone  he  was  raising,  cried  out : 

"Boys,  you  can't  fool  me !  There  is  some  one 
here,  and  they're  spying  on  us.  I'll  make  'em 
sorry  for  it!  I  hear  whispering,  and  I've  felt 
right  along  as  though  unseen  eyes  were  looking 
at  me.  Now  I'm  going  to  find  out  who  it  is !" 


132     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

Once  more  he  started  for  the  place  where  Blake 
and  Joe  were  concealed.  This  time  it  could  be 
seen  that  he  would  not  be  swerved  from  his  quest. 

"Come  on,  Joe.  We've  got  to  run  for  it !"  ex- 
claimed Blake,  and,  not  caring-  now  how  much 
noise  they  made — being  under  the  necessity  of 
betraying  their  presence — they  dashed  back  in  the 
direction  they  had  come. 

"Here  they  are !"  yelled  Hemp,  as  he  ran  after 
them,  tearing  through  the  underbrush.  "I  knew 
we  were  being  spied  on !  Come  along,  men !"  he 
yelled. 

Blake  and  Joe  looked  back  as  they  got  to  the 
path  that  led  along  the  cliff,  below  which  was 
the  rolling  ocean.  They  had  a  glimpse  of  the 
big  man  racing  after  them,  several  others  in  his 
wake. 

"Stop !"  commanded  Hemp  Danforth.  "Hold 
on,  you  spies!" 

"Don't  answer,"  advised  Blake.  "Save  your 
breath  for  running,  Joe." 

"Um !"  grunted  his  chum. 

They  were  fleet  of  foot,  and  had  a  start.  They 
were  also  lighter  in  weight  than  was  their  pur- 
suer. In  a  short  time  they  were  well  ahead. 

"But  he's  still  coming  on !"  declared  Blake. 

"We've  got  to  give  him  the  slip,"  declared  Joe. 
"Can't  you  see  some  side  path  we  can  take  ?" 


JOE  SUSPECTS  SOMETHING  133 

"Yes,  here's  one,"  was  the  panting1  answer,  and 
at  that  moment  Blake  parted  some  low  bushes  and 
jumped  into  a  sort  of  cross  path,  almost  con- 
cealed from  view.  "Come  on,  Joe !" 

His  chym  lost  no  time  in  following,  and  for  a 
few  moments,  at  least,  they  were  comparatively 
safe. 

"Now,  Blake,"  said  Joe,  when  they  felt  that 
they  could  slacken  their  pace  to  get  their  breath, 
"I  want  you  to  tell  me  that  secret !" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

AFTER    THE    WRECKERS 

BLAKE  STEWART  was  at  a  loss.  He  did  not 
know  what  to  do,  and,  though  he  had  been  ex- 
pecting to  hear  this  request  at  almost  any  time, 
he  was  no  more  prepared  for  it  now  than  he 
would  have  been  had  it  been  made  directly  after 
Blake  learned  of  Mr.  Duncan's  flight. 

"Well?"  asked  Joe,  suggestively,  when  his 
chum  did  not  answer.  "Aren't  you  going  to  tell 
me?" 

"What  makes  you  think  I  have  a  secret,  Joe?" 
Thus  Blake  tried  to  temporize,  so  that  he  might 
think  what  was  best  to  do. 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  you  have,"  declared  Joe,  "and 
you  might  as  well  tell  me  now  as  any  time,  for 
I'm  bound  to  find  it  out.  I  don't  believe  there's 
any  more  danger  now,"  and  he  paused  to  look 
back  along  the  almost  hidden  path  they  had  fol- 
lowed. "I  can't  see  anything  of  that  man,"  he 
added.  "We  gave  him  the  slip,  all  right 

i34 


'iFTER  THE  WRECKERS  135 

"Now  go  ahead,  Blake,  and  end  my  suspense. 
I've  seen  for  some  time  that  you've  been  keeping 
something  back  from  me.  I  don't  know  what  it 
is,  but  it's  something  about  my  father.  And  I  ap- 
preciate why  you're  doing  it.  You  want  to  spare 
my  feelings." 

"That's  it!"  cried  Blake,  eagerly,  glad  of  any 
chance  to  put  off  what  he  regarded  as  a  most  un- 
pleasant duty.  "It  is  for  your  sake,  Joe,  that  I 
have  been  keeping  silent,  and  I  wish  you  would 
go  on  letting  me  do  so.  Believe  me,  if  I  thought 
it  well  for  you  to  know  I'd  tell  you." 

"Is  it — is  it  that  he  isn't  my  father,  after  all  ?" 
faltered  the  lad,  following  a  silence  in  which  all 
sound  of  pursuit  had  died  away.  The  boys  felt 
that  they  were  safe  now.  "Do  you  mean  to  say, 
Blake,  that  this  man  whom  I've  traced  after  such 
hard  work,  isn't  any  relation  to  me — haven't  I 
any  folks,  after  all?" 

"No,  Joe,  it  isn't  that  at  all.  He's  your  father, 
as  far  as  I  know,  and  I  will  admit  there  is  some 
secret  about  him.  But  I'd  rather  not  tell  you." 

"I  want  to  know  it,"  insisted  Joe,  firmly. 

"If  you'll  only  wait,"  went  on  his  chum,  "it 
may  all  be  explained  when — when  he  comes  back. 
Then  there  won't  be  any  need  of  a  secret.  Better 
wait,  Joe." 

"No,  I've  got  to  hear  it  right  away.    If  it's  any 


136     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

disgrace — and  it  must  be,  or  you'd  be  willing  to 
tell  me — if  it's  any  disgrace,  it's  my  duty  to  stand 
up  for  my  father  when  he  isn't  here.  I'm  his  son, 
and  I  have  a  right  to  know  about  it,  and  protect 
his  name  as  much  as  I  can.  Tell  me,  Blake." 

The  other  hesitated  a  moment.  If  he  told,  it 
would  be,  he  felt,  breaking  his  promise  made  to 
the  lighthouse  keeper,  but  then  the  promise  was 
not  so  sacred  that  it  could  not  be  broken.  It  was 
given  under  a  sort  of  discretion,  and  Blake  knew 
that  he  would  be  allowed  to  reveal  what  had  been 
said  if  he  felt  that  it  was  best  to  do  so.  The  time 
now  seemed  to  have  come  to  do  this.  He  took 
a  sudden  resolve. 

"All  right,  Joe,"  he  said,  "I'll  tell  you.  There 
is  a  secret  about  your  father.  I  suppose  you  know 
what  sort  of  men  those  were  that  we  just  got 
away  from?"  and  he  nodded  in  the  direction  of 
the  hill  down  which  they  had  raced. 

"I've  been  puzzling  my  head  about  them, 
Blake,"  came  the  answer,  "and  all  I  can  say  is  that 
they  must  be  either  men  who  are  experimenting 
with  a  new  kind  of  light,  or  else  they  are — 
wreckers !" 

"That's  it,  Joe.  They  are  wreckers,  and  they're 
plotting  to  lure  some  vessel  on  the  rocks  by  means 
of  false  lights." 


AFTER  THE  WRECKERS  137 

"The  scoundrels !"  burst  out  Joe.  "We've  got 
to  spoil  their  wicked  game." 

"That's  what  we  have.  We'll  tell  the  police,  or 
some  one  in  authority." 

"But  before  we  do,"  broke  in  Joe,  "tell  me  about 
my  father,  though  I  begin  to  suspect  now,"  and 
there  was  a  look  of  sadness  on  his  face. 

"I  presume  you  pretty  well  know  what  is 
coming,"  said  Blake,  slowly,  "now  you  have 
heard  what  those  men  said.  The  whole  amount 
of  it  is,  Joe,  that  your  father  is  suspected  of  hav- 
ing been  in  league  with  those  wreckers — that  he 
helped  to  lure  vessels  on  these  same  rocks." 

"My  father  a  wrecker!"  cried  Joe.  "It  can't 
be — I  won't  believe  it !" 

"I  didn't  want  to  either,  when  I  heard  it,"  said 
Blake,  "and  maybe,  now  that  I've  told  you,  we  can 
work  together  and  find  some  way  of  proving  him 
innocent." 

"That's  it!"  cried  the  son.  "Oh,  if  he  were 
only  here  to  help  us!  I  wonder  why  he  went 
away  ?" 

"The  lighthouse  keeper  said,"  began  Blake, 
"that  your  father  left  because  he  feared  to  be  ar- 
rested. And  the  day  after  he  went  away  an 
officer  did  come  for  him,"  and  he  proceeded  to 
relate  what  Mr.  Stanton  had  said. 

"I  don't  believe  it !"  cried  Joe,  when  the  account 


138    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  VN  THE  COAS'L    * 

was  finished.  "Of  course,  I  don't  remember  »iy 
father,  and,  naturally,  I  don't  know  what  sort  of 
a  man  he  was,  but  I  don't  believe  he  was  a 
wrecker !" 

"And  I  don't  either!"  added  Blake.  "Here's 
my  hand  on  it,  Joe,  and  we'll  do  our  best  to  find 
out  the  truth  of  this  thing,"  and  the  two  chums 
clasped  hands  warmly. 

"But  it's  mighty  strange  what  those  men  said 
about  him,"  went  on  Joe.  "To  think  that  we 
would  stumble  on  the  wreckers  right  at  work. 
We  can  lead  the  police  to  the  very  place  where 
they  have  set  up  their  false  light." 

"Maybe  we  can  do  better  than  that,  Joe." 

"How?" 

"Why,  we  may  be  able  to  help  the  police  catch 
these  same  fellows." 

"That's  so.  Have  you  a  plan,  Blake?"  asked 
his  chum,  eagerly,  as  they  walked  on  along  the 
path. 

"Not  yet,  but  we'll  make  one  up.  But,  Joe, 
did  you  notice  just  what  it  was  that  big  wrecker 
said?" 

"Not  exactly;  I  was  too  excited  when  I  heard 
them  mention  my  father's  name." 

"Well,  they  as  much  as  said  that  your  father 
had  refused  to  give  them  the  information  they 
wanted,  and  this  spoiled  their  scheme.  That 


AFTER  THE  WRECKERS  139 

might  go  to  show  that  they  made  offers  to  him  to 
have  him  help  them  in  their  wicked  plans,  and 
he  refused.  That  made  them  turn  against  him, 
and " 

"I  see,  Blake!  You  mean  that,  maybe,  after 
all,  he  left  because  he  was  afraid  of  the  wreckers, 
and  not  because  he  had  done  anything  wrong?" 

"That's  it,  Joe.  Of  course,  it's  all  guess  work 
on  our  part,  so  far,  and  I  think  the  best  thing 
we  can  do  is  to  go  to  the  lighthouse  and  tell  Mr. 
Stanton  all  we've  seen  and  heard.  He  may  be 
able  to  advise  us,  even  if  he  is  an  old  man.  At 
any  rate,  he'll  know  what  police  or  government 
officers  to  go  to,  so  we  can  catch  these  wreckers." 

"That's  right,  Blake.  Come  on.  I  guess  we 
can  go  down  on  the  beach  now.  Those  fellows 
won't  venture  out  into  the  open  after  us,  I  don't 
believe." 

"No,  they  seem  to  have  given  up  the  chase," 
replied  Blake,  and  the  two  lads  were  soon  down 
on  the  shore. 

A  look  around  showed  no  signs  of  the  sup- 
posed wreckers,  and  a  little  later  the  two  lads  were 
in  the  lighthouse  telling  their  story  to  the  won- 
dering and  amazed  keeper. 

"So  that's  how  the  scoundrels  are  planning  to 
work;  are  they?"  cried  the  old  man.  "Going  to 
duplicate  my  light,  and  fool  the  poor  sailors! 


I4o     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

But  we'll  put  a  spoke  in  their  wheel,  boys.  We'll 
spike  their  guns  for  'em,  and  have  'em  behind  the 
bars,  if  there's  any  law  in  this  land. 

"Putting  up  a  false  light  right  opposite  those 
rocks — the  most  dangerous  on  the  coast!  No, 
punishment  would  be  too  bad  for  'em.  Did  you 
happen  to  hear,  boys,  when  they  expected  to  play 
that  wicked  game  ?" 

"They  didn't  mention  any  special  night,"  re- 
plied Blake ;  "it  seemed  that  they  counted  on  get- 
ting some  information  which  failed  them — Joe's 
father,"  he  added,  thinking  it  well  to  let  Mr. 
Stanton  know  that  Joe  had  been  informed  of  the 
secret. 

"Joe's  father;  eh?"  said  the  old  man,  musingly. 
"Boy,  I'm  mighty  sorry  for  you,"  he  said,  softly ; 
"for  I  know  the  disgrace  is  trying,  and  if  it  had 
been  possible  to  keep  this  from  you " 

"I'm  glad  I  know!"  burst  out  Joe.  "There 
isn't  going  to  be  any  disgrace.  My  father  is  inno- 
cent, I'm  sure  of  it;  and  I  believe  we  can  prove 
it,  once  we  have  these  wreckers  arrested." 

"That's  the  way  to  talk!"  cried  the  old  man. 
"Boys,  I'll  help  you.  We'll  get  right  after  these 
miscreants.  Maybe  I  was  wrong,  after  all,  in 
thinking  Nate  Duncan  guilty.  He  was  a  good 
man,  and  it  made  me  feel  bad  even  to  suspect 
him." 


AFTER  THE  WRECKERS  141 

"What  do  you  think  is  the  best  thing  to  do?" 
asked  Blake.  "We  ought  to  act  quickly,  or  they 
may  leave  this  part  of  the  country,  to  try  their 
scheme  farther  down  the  coast.  It  might  succeed, 
then." 

"That's  right,"  declared  Mr.  Stanton.  "We 
must  act  at  once.  My  assistant  is  here  now,  and 
I'll  have  him  go  with  you.  I'm  a  little  too  old 
for  such  work.  Besides,  one  of  us  will  have  to 
stay  here  to  guard  the  light.  No  telling  but  what 
the  scoundrels  might  try  to  wreck  it.  But  if  they 
come,  I'll  be  ready  for  'em !"  he  cried,  as  he  took 
down  an  old-fashioned  musket  from  the  wall. 
"I'll  stand  by  to  repel  boarders!"  he  exclaimed, 
holding  the  weapon  above  his  head,  and  then 
sighting  it  at  an  imaginary  enemy. 

"I'll  call  my  assistant,"  he  went  on.  "Tom 
Cardiff  is  as  sturdy  a  lad  as  you'd  wish  to  see. 
He  can  get  one  of  the  men  from  the  life  saving 
station,  and  with  a  couple  of  the  government 
secret  service  officers  you  ought  to  be  able  to 
get  those  wreckers,  don't  you  think?" 

"Sure!"  cried  Joe. 

"Did  you  mean  for  us  to  help  catch  'em?" 
asked  Blake. 

"I  certainly  did,"  went  on  the  keeper.  "That 
is,  unless  you're " 


142     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST. 

"Afraid?  Not  a  bit  of  it!"  cried  Blake,  vigor- 
ously. 

"Besides,  you  know  just  where  they  were  lo- 
cated," continued  Mr.  Stanton. 

"Though  they  may  have  taken  the  alarm  and 
left,"  suggested  Joe. 

"Then  we'll  trace  'em!"  cried  his  chum. 
"Where  is  your  helper,  Mr.  Stanton?" 

"I'll  call  him.  I  say  Tom— Tom  Cardiff!"  he 
shouted  up  the  lantern  tower.  "I'll  finish  clean- 
ing the  lens.  I've  got  other  work  for  you.  Come 
down!" 

"Coming!"  was  the  answer,  and  a  little  later  a 
well  built  young  fellow,  muscular  and  of  fine 
appearance,  greeted  the  boys.  The  introduction 
was  soon  made,  and  the  story  of  the  lads  told. 

"Wreckers;  eh?"  exclaimed  Tom  Cardiff.  "I'd 
just  like  to  get  hold  of  some  of  the  wretches," 
and  he  stretched  out  his  vigorous  arms. 

"Well,  get  after  'em,  then!"  exclaimed  the  old 
man.  "You  don't  want  to  lose  any  time.  Tele- 
phone for  the  officers." 

The  wire  was  soon  busy,  and  arrangements 
made  for  the  secret  service  men  to  come  to  the 
lighthouse.  One  of  the  life  saving  squad,  from 
a  station  a  little  farther  down  the  coast,  was  also 
engaged. 

"Now  you  boys  had  better  go  back  to  your 


AFTER  THE  WRECKERS  143 

place,"  said  Mr.  Stanton;  "and  arrange  to  come 
back  to-night.  That's  the  only  time  to  get  after 
these  fellows.  They  probably  have  finished 
their  work,  from  what  you  told  me,  and  they'll 
lay  low  until  it's  dark.  Then  we'll  get  after  'em !" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

FAILURE 

"Boys,  if  you  could  only  get  moving  pictures 
of  the  capture  of  the  wreckers !" 

Thus  exclaimed  Mr.  Ringold  when  his  two 
young  employees  told  of  the  plans  afoot  and 
asked  to  be  excused  from  work  a  little  longer. 

"It  would  be  great,"  admitted  Joe. 

"But  we'd  need  a  powerful  light,"  said  Blake, 
"and  if  we  had  that  it  would  warn  the  men  we're 
after." 

"That's  so,"  spoke  the  theatrical  man.  "I  guess 
it's  out  of  the  question.  But  you  have  done  such 
wonderful  work  so  far,  that  I'd  like  you  to  keep 
it  up.  A  film  of  the  capture  of  wreckers  would 
make  an  audience  sit  up  and  take  notice." 

"I  guess  I'll  have  to  invent  some  sort  of  a  light 
that  would  make  it  possible,"  put  in  Mr.  Hadley; 
"but  I'm  afraid  I  can't  have  it  ready  to-night." 

"Then  you  don't  mind  if  we  go?"  asked  Blake. 

"No,  indeed!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Ringold,  "and  I 
wish  you  all  success." 

144 


FAILURE  145 

"It's  going  to  be  a  dark  night,"  remarked 
Blake,  a  little  later,  as  he  and  Joe  were  on  their 
way  to  the  lighthouse.  It  was  early  evening,  but 
the  sky  was  clouding  over  and  a  wind  was  com- 
ing up  that  sent  the  big  billows  bounding  up  on 
the  sand  with  a  booming  noise  like  the  discharge 
of  distant  cannon. 

"Yes,  we'll  have  to  sort  of  feel  our  way  along," 
said  Joe.  "But  I  guess  we  can  find  the  place,  all 
right" 

"I  hope  so.  But  I  wonder  if  the  men  will 
come  back  after  the  alarm  we  gave  'em?" 

"That's  hard  to  tell,  Blake.  And  yet  they 
might;  for,  though  they  saw  us,  they  may  think 
we  were  only  a  couple  of  lads  out  for  a  stroll, 
who  accidentally  stumbled  on  their  hiding  place. 
In  that  case  they  wouldn't  think  we'd  give  any 
alarm,  and  they'd  go  on  with  their  plans." 

"That's  so.  Well,  we'll  see  what  happens.  I 
hope  there  aren't  too  many  of  them,  so  that  our 
men  can  handle  them." 

"That  Tom  Cardiff  can  get  away  with  a  couple 
on  his  own  account,  and  with  the  life  saver,  and 
the  secret  service  men,  not  to  mention  ourselves, 
Blake,  I  guess  we'll  make  out  all  right." 

"I  reckon  you  and  I  together,  Joe,  can  account 
for  at  least  one,"  and  Blake  looked  quizzically  at 
his  chum. 


146     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"I  feel  almost  as  if  I  could  handle  one  alone, 
when  I  think  of  how  they  got  my  father  into 
trouble,"  replied  the  other.  "I'm  going  to  give 
a  good  account  of  myself,  if  I  get  the  chance." 

"Same  here.  Well,  there's  the  lighthouse  just 
ahead,  and  two  or  three  men  waiting  for  us.  I 
guess  they're  the  ones  we  are  to  go  with." 

This  proved  to  be  the  case,  and  a  little  later  the 
boys  were  repeating  to  the  life  saver,  and  two 
secret  service  men,  such  parts  of  their  story  as 
Mr.  Stanton  and  Tom  Cardiff  had  omitted  or 
forgotten. 

"Well,  if  we're  all  ready,  we  may  as  well  start," 
proposed  Sam  Wilton,  one  of  the  government 
agents.  The  other  was  Jerry  Boundley,  while 
the  name  of  the  life  saver  was  Frank  Hale. 

"Yes,  it's  quite  a  tramp,"  said  Tom  Cardiff, 
"and  the  wreckers  may  be  there  now.  Several 
small  trading  vessels  are  expected  up  the  coast 
this  week,  and  some  may  be  due  to-night.  Though 
seeing  that  a  storm  is  coming  up,  they  may  keep 
so  far  out  from  shore  that  they  won't  see  the 
false  lights,  in  case  the  wreckers  try  to  work 
them. 

"This  is  about  as  wicked  a  piece  of  work  as 
could  well  be  done,  trying  to  wreck  vessels  this 
way.  A  sailor  has  to  depend  absolutely  on  the 
lights,  under  certain  conditions,  and  if  they're 


FAILURE  147 

wrong,  it's  like  leading  a  blind  man  into  danger. 
So  let's  get  after  'em  and  stop  their  work!" 

The  men  well  knew  the  way  nearly  to  the  place 
where  the  boys  had  discovered  the  wreckers  at 
work,  and  so  they  would  not  have  to  rely  on  Joe 
and  Blake  to  guide  them  until  they  were  almost 
there. 

"When  you  see  that  you  are  close  to  the  place," 
said  Tom  Cardiff,  "you  boys  go  ahead,  and  we'll 
trail  along  after  you.  And  keep  mighty  quiet, 
too.  If  we  can  catch  these  fellows  actually  in 
the  act  of  showing  a  false  light,  so  much  better 
for  the  chances  of  convicting  them." 

They  went  on  in  the  darkness.  Back  of  them, 
as  they  mounted  the  hill  which  ended  in  the  high 
cliff,  could  be  seen  the  flashing  light  tended  by 
aged  Mr.  Stanton. 

"He's  right  on  the  job,"  remarked  Tom  Car- 
diff. "Even  if  he's  an  old  man  he'll  stay  up  all 
night  to  attend  to  that  light,  to  see  that  it's 
trimmed  properly,  that  the  machinery  is  work- 
ing, that  there's  oil  in  the  reservoir,  and  that  the 
lenses  are  clean.  That  light  is  just  like  a  son  or 
daughter  to  him.  He  can't  bear  to  have  anything 
happen  to  it  and  the  very  idea  of  any  scoundrels 
trying  to  wreck  vessels  by  means  of  a  false  bea- 
eon  riles  him  up  considerable." 

"I  should  think  it  would,"  agreed  Mr.  Wilton. 


148     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Well,  if  we  can  catch  these  fellows  we'll  put 
'em  where  they  can't  do  any  more  harm.  And 
I  hope  we'll  get  back  in  time,  so  Mr.  Stanton 
won't  have  to  stay  up  all  night." 

"I  hope  so,  too,"  put  in  Tom  Cardiff.  "He 
isn't  equal  to  the  task." 

"We're  getting  close  to  the  place  now,"  said 
Blake,  in  a  low  voice  a  little  later. 

"Then  you  boys  come  up  here,"  ordered  Tom 
Cardiff,  who,  in  a  measure,  was  a  sort  of  leader. 
"And  everybody  keep  quiet.  Don't  talk,  except 
in  whispers,  and  make  as  little  noise  as  you  can." 

Cautiously  they  advanced,  the  boys  in  the  lead. 
The  lads  recognized,  even  in  the  darkness,  some 
of  the  larger  landmarks  they  had  passed  in  their 
flight  that  afternoon. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,  and  listen,"  suggested  the 
life  saver.  "Maybe  we  can  hear  them  talking." 

They  paused,  but  the  only  sound  that  came  was 
the  booming  of  the  surf  on  the  rocks  below. 

"Can  you  see  anything  of  a  light  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Boundley. 

"Not  a  thing,"  replied  Joe,  glancing  all  about 
him. 

"Look  up,"  directed  Tom  Cardiff.  "That's  the 
best  way  to  locate  a  light  that  you  can't  see  di- 
rectly. You  may  catch  its  reflection  on  the  night 
mist" 


FAILURE  149 

But  the  night  was  black  all  around  them.  Not 
a  gleam  could  they  make  out.  Once  more  they 
advanced  until  Joe  and  Blake  recognized  the  place 
where  they  had  been  hiding,  and  whence  they 
had  looked  into  the  open  place  where  the  wreckers 
had  been  putting  up  their  false  light. 

"It's  here !"  whispered  Blake. 

"Just  ahead  there,"  added  Joe. 

"Get  ready,  men !"  exclaimed  Tom  Cardiff,  in  a 
tense  whisper.  "We'll  rush  'em  before  they  know 
it — if  they're  here." 

Stout  clubs  had  been  brought  along  in  anticipa- 
tion of  a  hand-to-hand  struggle,  it  being  decided 
that  these  weapons  were  best,  safest  and  most 
effective  at  close  quarters. 

"All  ready?"  asked  the  leader. 

"Yes — yes !"  came  the  answers. 

Blake  leaned  forward,  cautiously  parted  the 
bushes  and  looked  toward  the  open  space.  He 
had  heard  nothing,  and  seen  nothing,  and  yet 
he  knew  that  the  men  might  be  hidden  about,  and 
that  the  lantern  might  not  yet  be  lighted. 

"Come  on!"  cried  Tom  Cardiff,  and  together 
•they  leaped  from  their  place  of  concealment. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then  a 
disappointed  exclamation  burst  from  the  lips  of 
the  assistant  lighthouse  keeper. 

"They're  not  here!"  he  declared.     That  was 


150    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

evident,  for  there  had  been  no  response  as  the 
searchers  burst  out. 

"Are  you  sure  this  is  the  place?"  asked  Mr. 
Wilton,  turning  to  the  boys. 

"Positive,"  answered  Joe. 

"Here's  the  pile  of  rocks  on  which  the  lantern 
was  set,"  added  Blake. 

"But  there's  no  lantern  here  now,"  said  Tom 
Cardiff. 

"Then  they've  skipped!"  declared  the  life  saver. 
"They  got  suspicious  and  left,  taking  the  lantern 
with  'em!" 


CHAPTER  XIX 

ON   THE   TRAIL 

THERE  was  no  doubt  about  it,  the  wreckers 
were  not  there,  and  the  indications  were  that  they 
had  betaken  themselves  to  some  other  location. 

When  the  men  flashed  the  pocket  electric  lamps 
they  had  brought  with  them,  the  little  opening 
at  the  top  of  the  cliff  was  well  illuminated. 

"Nothing  doing!"  exclaimed  Joe,  regretfully. 

"They  must  have  skipped  out  right  after  they 
chased  us,"  decided  Blake. 

"And  they  went  in  a  hurry,  too,"  declared  Tom 
Cardiff. 

"What  makes  you  think  so?"  asked  one  of  the 
government  officers. 

"Look  at  how  this  stone  pile,  which  they  in- 
tended to  use  as  a  base  for  their  lantern,  is  dis- 
turbed, and  pulled  apart,"  went  on  the  assistant 
lighthouse  keeper,  as  he  flashed  his  torch  on  it. 
"I'll  wager,  boys,  that  when  you  saw  it,  with 
that  contrivance  atop  by  which  they  hoped  to  fool 
151 


152     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST, 

some  vessels,  this  stone  pile  was  well  built  up; 
wasn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  Blake,  "it  was." 

"Because,"  went  on  Tom  Cardiff,  "it  would 
have  to  be  so  to  make  their  light  steady,  to  give 
the  impression  that  it  was  one  of  the  regular 
government  lights.  They  were  going  to  work  a 
shutter,  you  boys  say,  to  give  the  impression  of  a 
revolving  light,  and  that  would  make  it  necessary 
to  have  a  firm  foundation. 

"And  yet  now  the  whole  top  of  this  stone  pile 
is  torn  apart,  showing  that  they  must  have  ripped 
out  whatever  they  had  here  to  hold  the  lantern. 
They  got  away  in  a  hurry,  is  my  opinion." 

"And  I  guess  we'll  all  have  to  agree,"  put  in 
the  life  saver.  "The  question  is — where  did  they 
go?" 

"And  that's  a  question  we've  got  to  answer," 
added  Tom  Cardiff.  "We've  got  to  get  on  the 
trail." 

"Why  so?"  asked  the  life  saver.  "If  you've 
driven  'em  off,  so  they  can't  try  any  of  their 
dastardly  tricks  to  lure  vessels  ashore,  isn't  that 
all  you  want?  You've  spoiled  their  game." 

"Yes !"  cried  Tom  Cardiff,  "we've  spoiled  it  for 
this  one  place,  but  they'll  be  at  it  somewhere  else." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Joe. 

"I  mean  that  they've  gone  somewhere  else!" 


THE  TRAIL  153 

exclaimed  the  assistant  keeper.  "They've  made 
tracks  away  from  here,  but  they've  gone  to  some 
other  place  to  set  up  their  light,  and  try  the  same 
thing  they  were  going  to  try  here.  It's  our  duty 
to  keep  after  'em,  and  break  up  the  gang!" 

"That's  right !"  cried  Mr.  Wilton.  "There's  no 
telling  what  damage  they  might  do,  if  left  alone. 
Why,  they  might  even  get  to  some  place  where 
large  passenger  steamers  pass,  and  wreck  one  of 
them,  though  mostly  they  aim  to  pick  out  a  spot 
where  small  cargo  boats  would  be  lured  on  the 
rocks.  We've  got  to  keep  after  'em !" 

"Then  come  on !"  cried  Joe.  He  was  fired  with 
enthusiasm,  not  only  to  capture  the  wreckers  for 
the  purpose  of  protecting  human  life  and  property, 
but  he  was  also  eager  to  have  the  scoundrels  safe 
in  confinement  so  that  he  might  question  tfoem, 
and  learn  the  source  of  the  suspicion  against  his 
father. 

"On  the  trail!"  cried  Blake.  "Maybe  we  cart 
easily  find  the  wreckers." 

"No,  not  to-night,"  advised  Mr.  Boundley.  "It 
wouldn't  be  practical,  in  the  first  place;  and  if  it 
was,  it  wouldn't  be  safe.  We  don't  know  this 
locality  very  well.  There  may  be  hidden  dangers 
and  pitfalls  that  would  injure  some  of  us.  Then, 
too,  we  don't  want  to  stumble  on  a  nest  of 


MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

wreckers  without  knowing  something  of  the  lay 
of  the  ground." 

"What's  best  to  be  done?"  asked  Tom  Cardiff. 

"Do  nothing  to-night,"  advised  the  govern- 
ment man.  "To-morrow  we  can  take  up  the  trail, 
and  by  daylight  we  may  be  able  to  pick  up  some- 
thing that  will  give  us  a  clue.  I  think  they  won't 
try  any  of  their  tricks  to-night,  so  it  will  be  safe 
for  us  to  go  back." 

The  others  agreed  with  this  view,  and,  after 
looking  about  the  place  a  little  more,  and  trying, 
but  unsuccessfully,  to  find  clues  in  the  darkness, 
partly  illuminated  by  the  electric  torches,  they 
gave  it  up  and  started  back  to  the  lighthouse. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think?"  asked  Blake  of  Joe, 
as  the  two  lads  reached  their  boarding  house  in 
the  little  theatrical  colony.  It  was  quite  late. 

"Think  of  it?"  echoed  Joe.  "I'm  terribly  dis- 
appointed, that's  what.  I  hoped  I'd  be  able  to  get 
a  start  on  disproving  this  accusation  against  my 
father." 

"Yes,  it  was  a  disappointment,"  agreed  Blake. 

"And  now  there's  no  telling  when  I  can." 

"No,  not  exactly;  but,  Joe,  I  have  a  plan." 

"What  is  it?"  ' 

"What's  the  matter  with  getting  on  the  trail 
after  these  fellows  the  first  thing  in  the  morning. 
No  use  waiting  any  longer,  and  we  can't  tell  how 


'ON  THE  TRAIL  155 

prompt  those  government  men  may  be.  Of  course 
they're  interested,  in  a  general  way,  in  making 
the  capture ;  but  aside  from  that,  you  and  I  have 
a  personal  motive;  for  I'll  admit  I'm  as  interested 
as  you  are  in  proving  that  your  father  is  innocent. 

"So  what's  the  matter  with  getting  back  up 
on  the  cliff  as  soon  as  we  can,  and  seeing  if  we 
can  trace  those  fellows.  You  know  we've  had 
some  experience  after  taking  films  of  those  In- 
dians, and  can  follow  signs  pretty  well." 

"I'm  with  you,  Blake!"  cried  Joe.  "We'll  do 
it.  I  guess  Mr.  Ringold  will  let  us  off  when  he 
knows  how  important  it  is." 

They  spoke  of  the  matter  to  the  theatrical  man 
early  the  next  morning,  and  he  readily  agreed  to 
let  them  continue  the  work  of  trying  to  capture 
the  wreckers. 

"Go  ahead,  boys,"  he  said.  "Mr.  Hadley  and 
your  lad,  Macaroni,  can  take  what  films  we  want 
to-day.  And  I  would  like  to  see  you  get  those 
wreckers.  There's  no  meaner  criminal  alive.  All 
we'll  do  for  the  next  couple  of  days  is  to  get  ready 
for  our  big  drama — I've  planned  a  new  one — and 
I  sure  will  want  you  boys  to  help  film  it  for  me." 

"What's  it  going  to  be  about?"  asked  Blake. 

"It's  a  sea  story,  and  a  wreck  figures  in  it." 

"A  real  wreck?"  asked  Joe,  in  some  surprise. 
"That  will  be  hard  to  do;  won't  it?" 


156     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"It  sure  will,  and  I  don't  just  know  how  to 
manage  it.  I  could  buy  some  old  tub,  and  wreck 
it,  I  suppose,  but  I  want  it  to  look  natural.  While 
I  don't  wish  anyone  bad  luck,  I  do  wish,  if  a 
wreck  had  to  happen,  that  it  would  come  about 
here,  so  we  could  get  moving  pictures  of  it.  But 
I  don't  suppose  I'll  have  any  such  good  luck. 

"However,  I'll  have  to  think  about  this.  Now 
you  boys  can  have  a  couple  of  days  off,  if  you 
like,  and  I  hope  you'll  find  those  miscreants." 

"I  wish  we  could  get  you  some  moving  pictures 
of  them,"  spoke  Blake;  "but  I'm  afraid  it's  out 
of  the  question." 

The  boys  were  soon  at  the  scene  of  the  disap- 
pointment the  night  before.  Daylight  revealed 
more  clearly  the  haste  with  which  the  wreckers 
had  removed  their  false  lantern.  Stones  -were 
scattered  about,  as  were  bits  of  broken  wood,  wire, 
rope  and  other  accessories. 

"Now,"  said  Joe,  after  they  had  looked  about, 
"the  thing  to  do  is  to  trail  them." 

"And  the  first  thing  is  to  get  a  clue,"  added 
Blake. 

They  looked  about,  using  the  knowledge  they. 
had  gained  from  being  with  the  cowboy  the  time 
they  filmed  the  pictures  of  the  Moqui  Indians. 
For  some  time  their  efforts  were  without  success. 
They  cast  about  in  all  directions,  looking  for  some 


ON  THE  TRAIL  157 

lead  that  would  tell  them  in  which  direction  the 
wreckers  had  gone. 

"I  should  think  they'd  go  farther  down  the 
coast,"  suggested  Joe.  "They  certainly  wouldn't 
come  toward  the  lighthouse,  and  they  wouldn't 
go  inland,  for  to  work  their  plan  they  need  to  be 
near  the  shore." 

"That's  right,  to  an  extent,"  decided  Blake; 
"but,  at  the  same  time,  they  may  have  wanted  to 
give  a  false  clue.  So  we  mustn't  let  that  fool  us. 
Keep  on  looking." 

Narrowly  they  scanned  the  ground.  It  was 
covered  with  marks,  not  only  of  the  footsteps  of 
the  wreckers,  but  of  the  men  and  boys  themselves 
who  had  made  the  unsuccessful  raid  the  night 
before. 

"Hello !"  cried  Blake,  suddenly,  as  he  dived  into 
a  clump  of  bushes.  "Here's  something !" 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Joe. 

"A  piece  of  cloth,  evidently  torn  from  a  man's 
clothing.  And,  Joe,  now  that  I  recall  it,  it's  the 
same  color  as  the  suit  worn  by  Hemp  Danforth 
when  he  chased  us.  We're  on  the  trail  at  last, 
Joe!" 


CHAPTER 

THE   DISCOVERY 

JOE  DUNCAN  leaped  to  his  chum's  side.  Eagerly 
he  looked  at  the  bit  of  cloth  which,  caught  on  a 
thorn  bush,  had  ripped  from  some  man's  garment. 
The  cloth  was  not  weather-beaten,  which,  to  the 
boys,  showed  that  it  had  not  long  been  hanging 
there. 

"Blake,  I  believe  you're  right,"  assented  his 
chum.  "They  went  this  way,  and  they  must  have 
done  it  for  a  blind,  or  else  to  get  to  some  path 
that  goes  farther  down  the  beach  a  different  way," 
for  the  cloth  was  caught  on  a  bush  toward  the 
landward  side  of  the  little  clearing. 

"We'll  follow  this,"  said  Blake. 

"Of  course,"  agreed  his  chum. 

They  pushed  into  the  bushes.  There  was  no 
semblance  of  a  path,  but  this  did  not  discourage 
the  boys.  They  realized  that  the  wreckers  would 
want  to  cover  up  their  trail,  and  would  take  a 
way  that  would  not  seem  to  lead  anywhere. 

158 


THE  DISCOVERY  159 

"This  will  branch  off  pretty  soon,"  was  Blake's 
opinion.  "This  is  just  a  blind,  to  make  us  be- 
lieve they  have  given  up,  and  gone  inland.  Come 
on,  Joe,  and  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  any  other 
signs." 

They  found  none  for  some  time,  and  then  they 
came  to  a  little  open  place  where  the  soft  ground 
held  several  footprints. 

"We're  getting  warmer !"  exclaimed  Joe. 

"Hush !"  cautioned  his  chum.  "They  may  hear 
us." 

"Why,  you  don't  think  they're  around  here; 
do  you?" 

"There's  no  telling.  It's  best  to  be  on  the  safe 
side.  Keep  quiet.  Hello !  here's  something  else !" 
and  Blake,  moving  cautiously,  so  as  not  to  make 
any  more  noise  than  possible,  picked  up  a  bit  of 
metal. 

"Wrhatisit?"asked  Joe. 

"Part  of  their  lantern,"  answered  his  chum. 
"It  was  made  of  black  sheet  iron,  you  remember. 
This  piece  may  have  fallen  off  when  they  dragged 
it  through  the  bushes.  We're  on  the  right  trail, 
all  right." 

"I  believe  you.  But  I  wish  it  would  turn  on  to 
a  better  path.  It's  no  fun  forcing  your  way 
through  these  bushes." 

"It'll  turn  soon  now,"  predicted  Blake.    "They 


160     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

only  took  this  lead  long  enough  to  discourage 
pursuit.  They  didn't  like  it  any  better  than  we 
do." 

His  surmise  proved  correct  and  about  five 
minutes  later,  having  found  other  evidences  of 
the  passage  of  the  wreckers,  they  came  out  on 
an  open  trail. 

It  was  a  narrow  path,  leading  along  in  both 
directions  from  where  they  came  out  on  it,  and 
following  the  coast  line,  but  some  distance  inland. 
There  were  evidences  that  men  had  passed  in  both 
directions,  and  that  at  no  distant  time,  for  foot- 
prints turned  to  both  the  left  and  right,  as  the 
boys  emerged  from  the  blind  trail  in  the  brush. 

"Well,  what  about  this?"  questioned  Joe,  as 
he  looked  in  silence  at  the  tell-tale  marks.  "Which 
way  shall  we  go,  Blake  ?" 

"To  the  right!"  came  the  answer,  almost  im- 
mediately. 

"What  makes  you  say  that?"  asked  his  chum. 
"I  don't  see  anything  to  show  that  they  went  to 
the  right,  any  more  than  that  they  went  to  the 
left." 

"Don't  you?"  asked  Blake.  "Look  here,  and 
remember  some  of  the  things  our  cowboy  guide 
told  us  when  we  were  after  the  Indians.  Now 
you  see  footprints  going  off  to  the  left  and  right 
from  this  point ;  don't  you  ?" 


THE  DISCOVERY  161 

"Sure." 

"Well,  do  you  happen  to  notice  that  on  the 
left  there  are  footprints  coming  back  as  well  as 
going." 

"Yes,  I  see  that.    But  what  does  it  mean?" 

"And  on  the  right  side,  counting  from  this 
dividing  point,  there  are  only  footprints  in  one 
direction." 

"That's  so,  Blake.    But " 

"Now  what's  the  answer?  Why  the  men  got 
here,  and,  thinking  they  might  be  followed,  tried 
a  simple  trick.  They  doubled  their  trail." 

"What's  that?" 

"Why,  some  of  them  went  off  to  the  left,  walked 
on  a  little  way,  doubled,  or  turned,  and  came  back, 
joining  the  others,  who  had  turned  to  the  right 
and  kept  on." 

"Why  was  that?" 

"Because  they  wanted  to  fool  us.  Naturally  a 
person,  not  looking  carefully,  would  see  both  lines 
of  footprints,  and  would  reason  that  the  men 
might  have  divided,  or  that  there  might  have  been 
two  separate  parties.  He  wouldn't  know  which 
trail  to  take.  He  might  pick  out  the  right  one, 
and,  again,  he  might  select  the  wrong  one." 

"And  you  say  the  right  one  is " 

"To  the  right.  We'll  follow  that.  If  they 
think  to  fool  us,  or  make  us  divide  our  forces, 


1 62 

they're  going  to  be  disappointed.  Another 
thing." 

"What's  that,  Blake?"  asked  Joe,  as  he  noticed 
his  chum  leaning  over  and  carefully  examining 
the  marks  in  the  dirt. 

"Why,  naturally  they  wouldn't  go  to  the  left, 
as  that  eventually  leads  to  the  lighthouse.  They 
want  to  keep  some  distance  from  that.  Of  course 
they'd  go  to  the  right.  And  here's  where  we  go 
after  'em.  Come  on !" 

There  was  no  hesitation  now.  Joe  was  as  sure 
as  his  chum  that  the  wreckers  had  gone  farther 
down  the  coast,  perhaps  to  some  other  high  cliff 
where  they  could  set  up  their  lantern. 

They  followed  the  path.  The  trail  was  plain 
now,  showing  that  a  number  of  men  had  passed 
along.  Footprints  were  the  only  clues,  however, 
a  number  overlapping  one  another. 

"What  shall  we  do  if  we  find  them  ?"  asked  Joe. 

"I — I  don't  know,"  answered  Blake.  This  was 
when  they  had  been  following  the  new  trail  for 
about  an  hour. 

"We  can't  tackle  'em  alone,  that's  sure,"  went 
on  Joe. 

"No,  but  we  can—  Hark!  What's  that?" 
whispered  Blake,  suddenly. 

They  listened  intently.  Far  off  they  could  hear 
the  roar  of  the  surf  on  the  beach;  but,  closer  at 


THE  DISCOVERY.  163 

hand,  was  another  sound.  It  was  tfie  clinK  of 
metal.  And  then  came  the  distant  murmur  of 
men's  voices. 

"Joe,  I  think  we've  found  them,"  whispered 
Blake.  "Come  on,  but  don't  make  any  noise." 

Cautiously  they  crept  forward,  the  sounds  be- 
coming more  and  more  plain. 

Suddenly  they  heard  a  loud  voice  exclaim : 

"There!  I  guess  that  will  do  the  business! 
And  those  fellows  won't  find  us  here !" 

"That's  them!"  whispered  Blake  in  Joe's  ear. 
"I  know  the  voice  of  Hemp  Danforth.  We've 
found  'em,  Joe !" 


THE    CAPTURE 

IMPULSIVELY  the  boys  clasped  hands  as  they 
realized  what  the  discovery  meant.  They  had 
come  upon  the  new  hiding  place  of  the  wreckers, 
and  the  chances  were  good  for  capture  if  no 
alarm  was  given. 

Joe,  perhaps,  felt  more  elated  than  did  Blake, 
though  the  latter  was  glad  that  his  theory  in  re- 
gard to  the  direction  taken  by  the  men  had  proved 
correct. 

But  Joe  felt  that  now  he  had  a  better  chance 
to  prove  his  father  innocent  of  the  charge  made 
against  him — that  he  was  involved  with  the 
wreckers. 

"We've  got  'em !"  he  whispered. 

"Yes — we've  got  'em — to  get!"  agreed  Blake. 
"No  slip-up  this  time." 

In  whispers  they  consulted,  and  decided  to  creep 
forward  a  short  distance  to  make  sure  of  their 
first  surmise  that  the  men,  whose  voices  they 
heard,  were  really  the  wreckers. 

164 


THE  CAPTURE  165 

"We  want  to  be  certain  about  it,"  warned 
Blake,  in  a  cautious  whisper. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  his  chum.  "Go  ahead, 
and  I'll  come  after  you." 

Cautiously  they  advanced  until  they  were  in  a 
position  to  look  forward  and  make  out  a  number 
of  men  working  on  a  sort  of  mound  of  rock  that 
rose  from  the  surface  of  the  cliff. 

"This  is  a  better  place,  from  their  standpoint, 
than  the  other,"  whispered  Blake.  "A  light  can 
be  seen  farther." 

"Yes,  and  they're  putting  up  the  same  lantern 
on  a  rock  pile,"  remarked  Joe.  Both  lads  recog- 
nized the  apparatus  they  had  seen  before.  The 
men  were  busily  engaged  in  setting  it  in  place, 
evidently  working  fast  to  make  up  for  lost  time. 

"It's  the  same  gang,"  observed  Blake;  "and 
they  must  know  of  some  vessel  that  is  to  pass 
here  soon,  or  they  wouldn't  be  in  such  a  hurry. 
Probably  they  count  on  the  steersman  mistaking 
this  light  for  the  one  at  Rockypoint,  and  standing 
in  close  here.  Up  at  Rockypoint  there  is  deep 
water  close  in  shore,  but  it  shoals  very  fast  both 
ways,  up  or  down  the  beach.  So  if  a  vessel  saw 
a  false  light,  and  stood  close  in  to  get  her  bear- 
ings, she'd  be  on  the  rocks  in  no  time." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Joe.  "She'd  be  wrecked 
and  these  fellows  would  get  what  they  could  out 


166    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST. 

of  her,  caring  nothing  for  the  lives  lost    Blake, 
we've  got  to  stop  'em !" 

"We  sure  have." 

"Not  only  to  clear  my  father,  but  to  save< 
others,"  went  on  Joe.    "What's  best  to  be  done?") 

"Well,  we  can't  capture  'em  by  ourselves ;  that's 
sure,"  went  on  Blake,  each  lad  speaking  in  a 
cautious  whisper.  "The  best  thing  for  us  to  do 
is  to  go  back,  I  think,  and  tell  Tom  Cardiff.  He'll 
know  what  to  do." 

"Maybe  one  of  us  had  better  stay  here  to  keep 
watch.  They  may  skip  out." 

"No  danger.  They  don't  know  that  we  have 
followed  'em,  or  that  we  are  here." 

"Then  we'll  go  back  together." 

"Sure,  and  give  the  alarm.  Then  to  make  the 
capture,  if  we  can." 

For  a  few  minutes  longer  the  eager  boys  looked 
on,  unseen  by  the  men  whom  they  had  trailed. 
The  wreckers  were  busy  putting  up  their  lantern, 
and  were  making  as  much  noise,  talking  and  ham- 
mering on  the  apparatus,  as  though  they  were 
far  removed  from  possible  discovery. 

"Well,  we'd  better  be  going,"  suggested  Blake, 
after  a  bit ;  and  they  made  their  departure  with- 
out causing  any  suspicious  sounds,  so  that  the 
wreckers  had  no  idea,  as  far  as  our  heroes  could 
ascertain,  that  they  were  being  spied  upon. 


THE  CAPTURE  167 

In  order  to  save  time,  as  soon  as  they  got  to 
the  nearest  small  settlement,  Joe  and  Blake  hired 
a  carriage,  and  drove  to  the  lighthouse.  As  may 
well  be  imagined  their  report  caused  considerable 
excitement. 

"We'll  get  right  after  'em !"  cried  Tom  Cardiff. 
"I  just  got  a  telephone  message  from  the  secret 
service  men  that  they  are  on  their  way  here. 
They'll  arrive  in  about  an  hour.  We  were  count- 
ing on  getting  on  the  trail  ourselves  to-day,  but 
you  boys  got  ahead  of  us.  So  in  about  an  hour 
we'll  start.  I  guess  they'll  be  there  then;  won't 
they,  lads." 

"I  should  judge  so,"  was  Blake's  answer. 
"They've  got  quite  a  good  deal  yet  to  do  to  get 
that  fake  lantern  in  shape,  and  they  don't  seem 
suspicious." 

"We  can't  have  our  life  saving  friend  with  us 
now,"  went  on  the  assistant  keeper,  "as  he  is  on 
duty,  but  I  guess  the  five  of  us  will  be  enough." 

"Say!"  cried  Blake,  with  sudden  thought,  "if 
it's  going  to  be  an  hour  before  we  start  we've  got 
time  to  get  our  automatic  moving  picture  camera, 
Joe." 

"What  for?" 

"To  get  some  views  of  this  capture.  It  ought 
to  make  a  dandy  film,  and  we  can  set  the  machine 


1 68     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST, 

in  place,  start  the  motor  and  then  you  and  I  can 
jump  in  and  help  catch  these  ^wreckers !" 

"The  very  thing !"  cried  his  chum.  "I  wonder 
I  didn't  think  of  it  myself.  Come  on!" 

"Don't  be  late !"  advised  Tom  Cardiff,  as  they 
ran  toward  the  ancient  carriage  they  had  hired. 
"We  don't  want  any  slip-up  this  time.  I'm  glad 
we're  going  to  try  for  the  capture  by  daylight, 
though,  instead  of  darkness;  it  gives  us  a  better 
chance." 

Mr.  Ringold  and  Mr.  Hadley  were  surprised 
and  delighted  at  the  news  the  boys  brought,  but 
they  voted  against  the  automatic  camera. 

"This  is  a  rare  chance  to  get  a  film,"  said  Mr. 
Hadley,  "and  we  don't  want  to  miss  it.  I'll  go 
along  with  you,  taking  a  regular  moving  picture 
camera,  and  while  you  capture  the  wreckers  I'll 
make  a  film  of  it." 

This  suited  the  boys  as  well,  and  a  little  later, 
with  the  chief  photographer,  they  started  back  for 
the  lighthouse.  They  found  the  secret  service 
men  and  Tom  Cardiff  waiting  for  them,  and,  well 
armed,  in  addition  to  the  clubs  they  carried,  andj 
with  ropes  to  bind  the  wreckers,  they  started  off. 

"We're  almost  there  now,"  said  Blake,  in  a 
whisper,  when  they  neared  the  second  hiding  place 
of  the  desperate  men.  "Go  easy,  now." 

"Let  me  get  a  chance  to  go  ahead  and  place 


THE  CAPTURE  169 

the  camera,"  suggested  Mr.  Hadley,  who  had  the 
apparatus  fully  adjusted. 

"That's  a  great  idea,"  declared  one  of  the 
government  men.  "Taking  their  photographs  in 
moving  pictures !  There'll  be  no  chance  for  them 
to  deny  they  were  present  when  they  were  cap- 
tured," and  he  chuckled  grimly. 

Mr.  Hadley  was  given  an  opportunity  to  move 
forward  alone.  He  found  an  advantageous  spot 
and  almost  at  once  beckoned  to  the  others  to 
hasten. 

"They're  getting  ready  to  leave!"  he  whispered, 
as  they  reached  his  side. 

"Come  on,  then!"  cried  Tom  Cardiff.  "Jump 
in  on  'em,  boys.  Lively  now !" 

As  he  spoke  he  leaped  forward,  followed  by  the 
others. 

"Surrender!  We've  got  you  surrounded!" 
yelled  the  assistant  keeper.  "It's  all  over  but  the 
shouting!"  and  as  he  made  a  grab  for  one  of  the 
men  the  moving  picture  machine  began  clicking. 

"Hands  up !"  ordered  Mr.  Wilton. 

"At  'em,  boys!"  called  the  other  government 
man,  as  he  and  Blake  and  Joe  leaped  to  the  at- 
tack together. 

For  a  moment  the  wreckers  stood  as  if  para- 
lyzed about  the  stone  pedestal  on  which  the  false 


1 70     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

lantern  was  being  built.    Then,  with  one  accord, 
the  desperate  men  made  a  dash  for  the  bush, 

"Stop  'em!"  cried  Tom  Cardiff.  "Don't  let 
'em  get  away !" 

"Come  on !"  yelled  Blake  to  his  chum.    "We'vei 
got  to  get  in  this  fracas !" 

And  as  they  dashed  after  the  wreckers  the 
moving  picture  camera  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Had- 
ley  recorded  view  after  view  of  the  exciting  scene. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
A  LIFE  GUARD'S  ALARM 

FORTUNE  played  into  the  hands  of  our  friends 
in  two  ways  as  they  sought  to  capture  the 
wreckers.  Otherwise  the  desperate  men  might 
have  gotten  away,  so  quickly  did  they  dash  out 
of  the  clearing  at  the  first  alarm. 

But,  as  he  ran  along,  big  Hemp  Danforth,  the 
leader  of  the  criminals,  stumbled  and  fell.  Right 
behind  him  was  sturdy  Tom  Cardiff,  and  the 
assistant  lighthouse  keeper  was  quick  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  chance  thus  put  in  his  way. 

"I've  got  you!"  he  yelled,  as  he  fairly  threw 
himself  on  the  prostrate  wrecker.  "I've  got  you ! 
Give  up,  you  varmint !" 

There  was  a  struggle,  none  the  less  desperate 
because  the  wrecker  was  underneath.  The  two 
rolled  or  the  ground  until  Tom  got  a  grip  on  his 
opponent.  Then,  by  putting  forth  his  enormous 
strength,  Tom  quickly  subdued  the  man. 

"Give  up,  I  tell  you!"  panted  Tom,  breathing 
hard.  "I'll  teach  you  to  wreck  ships.  Give  up !" 
171 


172     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"I  give  up !"  was  the  sullen  response. 

With  a  quick  turn  of  the  ropes  he  had  brought, 
Tom  had  the  wrecker  trussed  up. 

Meanwhile  the  others  had  been  busy.  The 
secret  service  men  had  each  tackled  a  man,  and, 
had  him  secure  by  now,  while  Joe  and  Blake,  by 
mutual  agreement  picking  out  another  member  of 
the  party  had,  after  a  struggle,  succeeded  in  tying 
him,  too. 

But  the  wreckers  outnumbered  our  friends  two 
to  one,  and  some,  if  not  all,  of  the  desperate  char- 
acters might  have  escaped  had  not  reinforcements 
appeared.  These  were  in  the  shape  of  four  sturdy 
fishermen  from  the  little  colony  where  the  moving 
picture  boys  lived. 

"Oh,  if  we  could  only  capture  the  others !"  cried 
Tom  Cardiff,  when  he  had  finished  with  his  man, 
and  saw  some  of  the  wreckers  struggling  to  make 
their  way  through  the  thick  bush.  "Come  on, 
boys !"  he  yelled  to  his  friends.  "When  you  finish 
with  those  fellows  keep  after  the  rest  of  the  gang, 
though  I'm  afraid  they'll  give  us  the  slip." 

"No,  they  won't !"  cried  a  new  voice,  and  then 
appeared  the  husky  toilers  of  the  sea,  armed  with 
stout  clubs.  At  the  sight  of  them  the  wreckers 
not  yet  captured  gave  up  in  despair.  Counting 
those  tied  up,  the  forces  were  now  equal,  and  as 
Mr.  Hadley  had  taken  all  the  moving  pictures 


A  LIFE  GUARD'S  ALARM  173- 

possible,  owing  to  the  struggle  taking  place  out 
of  range  of  his  camera,  he  left  the  apparatus, 
and  joined  his  friends. 

"Well,  we  got  'em!"  cried  Tom  Cardiff,  as 
he  surveyed  the  line  of  prisoners,  fastened  to- 
gether with  ropes.  "Every  one  of  'em,  I  guess. 
You're  a  nice  crowd!"  he  sneered  at  big  Hemp 
Danforth.  "A  nice  lot  of  men  to  be  let  loose !" 

"A  little  later  and  you  wouldn't  have  had  us !" 
snarled  the  leader  of  the  wreckers.  "You  were 
too  many  for  us." 

"That's  so,"  spoke  Tom.  "How  did  you  hap- 
pen to  come  to  help  us  ?"  he  asked  of  Abe  Haskill, 
who  was  one  of  the  reinforcing  fishermen.  "Who 
sent  you  ?" 

"Old  Stanton  telephoned  over  from  the  light- 
house," was  the  answer.  "He  said  you  were  on 
your  way  here,  and  that  the  gang  might  be  too 
much  for  you.  So  I  got  a  couple  of  my  friends, 
and  over  we  came — just  in  time,  too,  I  take  it." 

"That's  right!"  exclaimed  Blake,  trying  to 
staunch  the  flow  of  blood  from  a  cut  on  his  face, 
received  in  the  fight  he  and  Joe  had  with  their 
prisoner.  Joe  himself  was  somewhat  bruised.  "A 
little  later  and  we'd  had  only  half  of  'em,"  went 
on  Blake. 

"It  looks  as  if  the  lantern  was  nearly  finished, 
too,"  went  on  Joe. 


'174    COVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Urn !"  sneered  the  chief  wrecker.  "You  may 
think  you  have  us,  but  it's  a  long  way  from  prov- 
ing anything  against  us.  What  have  we  done 
'  that's  wrong?"  and  he  looked  defiantly  at  Tom 
Cardiff. 

"Wrong!"  cried  the  lighthouse  man.  "Don't 
you  call  it  wrong  to  set  up  a  false  light  to  lure 
unsuspecting  captains  on  the  rocks,  so  you  can 
get  your  pickings?  Wrong!" 

"Huh !  How  do  you  know  but  what  this  light 
was  put  here  as  a  range  finder  for  us  fishermen?" 
asked  the  other. 

"Fishermen!  Why,  you  men  never  did  an 
honest  day's  fishing  in  your  lives!"  cried  Abe 
Haskill.  "Fishing!  When  you  haven't  been 
smuggling  you've  been  wrecking,  or  robbing  other 
honest  men's  nets.  You're  a  bunch  of  scoundrels, 
and  it's  the  best  day's  work  we've  done  in  many 
a  year  to  get  you !" 

"That's  all  right,"  retorted  Hemp,  easily. 
"Words  don't  prove  anything." 

"They  don't ;  eh  ?"  cried  Tom  Cardiff.  "You'll 
.see  what  they  do.  We'll  convict  you  by  your  own 
words!" 

"Our  own  words  ?"  asked  Hemp  Danforth,  un- 
easily. 

"Yes,  overheard  by  these  two  lads,  whom  you 
chased  but  couldn't  catch.  I  guess  when  Blake 


A  LIFE  GUARD'S  ALARM  175 

Stewart  and  Joe  Duncan  go  into  court,  and  testify 
about  hearing  you  talk  of  wrecking  vessels  by 
your  false  lantern,  the  jury'll  convict  you,  all 
right!" 

Hemp  seemed  less  concerned  with  what  Tom 
said  than  with  the  name  Joe  Duncan.  As  this 
was  uttered  the  wrecker  looked  at  the  two  lads. 

"Did  I  understand  him  to  say  that  one  of  you 
is  a  Duncan?"  asked  Hemp,  curiously. 

"I  am,"  replied  Joe. 

"Are  you  Nate  Duncan's  son?" 

"I  hope  so — yes,  I'm  sure  I  am." 

"Ha!     Ha!"  laughed  the  wrecker. 

"What's  the  joke?"  inquired  Tom  Cardiff. 

"This,  and  it's  a  good  one,  too.  You  think 
to  convict  us  on  the  testimony  of  Nate  Duncan's 
son.  Why,  Nate  is  one  of  us !  His  son's  evidence 
wouldn't  be  any  good.  Besides,  a  son  wouldn't 
help  to  convict  his  father.  That's  a  good  one. 
Nate  Duncan  is  one  of  us !" 

"That's  not  so !"  burst  out  Joe,  jumping  toward 
the  big  wrecker,  as  though  to  strike  him.  "It 
isn't  true.  My  father  never  was  a  wrecker." 

"He  wasn't;  eh?"  sneered  Hemp.  "Well,  I'm 
not  saying  we  are,  either ;  but  if  your  father  isn't 
a  wrecker  why  did  he  run  away  before  the  officers 
came  for  him?  Answer  me  that — if  you  can!" 


176     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COASTi 

"I — I — "  began  Joe,  when  Blake  stepped  to  his 
chum's  side. 

"Don't  answer  him,"  counseled  Blake.  "It  will 
only  make  matters  worse.  It  will  all  come  out 
right" 

"I'm  sure  of  it,"  said  Joe.  "Poor  Dad,  I  wish 
he  were  here  to  defend  himself;  but,  as  he  isn't, 
I'll  stick  up  for  him." 

"Well,  if  you're  through  talking  I  guess  we'll 
move  along,"  suggested  Tom  at  this  point. 
"There  are  a  few  empty  cells  in  the  jail  at  San 
Diego,  I  understand,  and  they'll  just  about  ac- 
commodate you  chaps." 

"Are — are  you  going  to  put  us  in  jail?"  fal- 
tered one  of  the  prisoners,  a  young  man. 

"That's  what  we  are,"  answered  Tom. 

"Oh,  don't.    I'll  tell— I'll " 

"You'll  keep  still— that's  what  you'll  do!" 
snapped  Hemp.  "I'll  fix  you  if  you  don't!"  and 
he  glared  at  the  youth  in  such  a  way  that  the 
latter  said  no  more.  "I'll  manage  this  thing," 
went  on  Hemp.  "You  keep  still  and  they  can't 
do  a  thing  to  us.  Now  go  ahead;  take  us  to  jail 
if  you  want  to." 

"That's  what  we  will,"  declared  Tom,  and  a 
little  later  the  prisoners  were  on  their  way  to  San 
Diego,  where  they  were  locked  up.  Some  sus- 
pected wreckers  had  been  taken  into  custody  when 


'A  LIFE  GUARD'S  ALARM  177 

Mr.  Duncan  was  accused,  but  nothing  had  been 
proved  against  them. 

"Well,  that  was  a  good  day's  work!"  declared 
Mr.  Hadley  late  that  afternoon,  when  he  and  the 
moving  picture  boys  were  back  at  their  quarters. 
"We  not  only  got  the  wreckers,  but  a  fine  film 
of  the  capture  besides." 

"And  we're  in  it,"  said  Blake.  "Joe,  how  will 
it  seem  to  see  yourself  on  a  screen." 

"Oh,  rather  odd,  I  guess,"  and  Joe  spoke  list- 
lessly. 

"Now  look  here!"  exclaimed  his  chum.  "I 
know  what's  worrying  you.  It's  what  Hemp  said 
about  your  father ;  isn't  it  ?" 

"Yes,  Blake,  it  is." 

"Well  then,  you  just  stop  thinking  about  it. 
Before  you  know  it  your  father  may  arrive  in 
Hong  Kong,  get  your  letter,  and  send  back  an 
answer.  Then  everything  will  be  cleared  up. 
Meanwhile,  we've  got  to  get  busy;  there  are  a  lot 
of  films  to  make,  I  understand." 

"Indeed  there  are,"  declared  Mr.  Ringold.  "I 
have  my  sea  drama  all  ready  for  the  films  now. 
I  don't  know  what  to  do  about  a  wreck,  though. 
I'm  afraid  I  can't  make  it  realistic  enough.  I 
must  make  other  plans  about  that  scene.  But  get 
your  cameras  in  good  shape,  boys,  for  there  is 
plenty  of  work  ahead." 


178     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST. 

"We  can  keep  right  on  the  job,"  said  Joe,  "for 
I  guess  we've  about  cleaned  up  the  wreckers." 

No  members  of  the  gang  had  escaped,  as  far 
as  could  be  learned,  and  the  renewed  work  of 
getting  evidence  to  be  used  at  the  trial  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  government  men.  The  false  lantern, 
which  had  first  given  the  boys  the  clue,  was  taken 
down,  and  proved  to  be  a  most  ingenious  piece  of 
apparatus.  Had  it  been  used  it  would  undoubtedly 
have  lured  some  ships  on  the  rocks. 

The  work  of  making  the  preliminary  scenes  of 
the  sea  drama  were  under  way.  It  took  the  best 
part  of  three  weeks  to  get  what  was  needed,  for 
Mr.  Ringold  was  very  particular,  and  insisted  on 
many  rehearsals,  these  taking  longer  than  the 
actual  making  of  the  films. 

Joe  and  Blake  were  kept  busy,  as  was  also  their 
young  assistant,  Macaroni,  and  Mr.  Hadley. 

"Everything  is  going  beautifully,"  said  Mr. 
Ringold  one  day.  "If  we  could  only  have  a  storm 
and  wreck  to  order,  now,  I  would  ask  nothing 
better." 

"Yes,  everything  is  nice,  except  that  we're  be- 
ing worked  to  death,"  spoke  C.  C.  Piper,  gloomily. 
"I've  lost  ten  pounds  in  the  last  week." 

"It  will  do  you  good,"  said  Miss  Lee,  with  a 
laugh.  "You  were  getting  too  stout,  anyhow." 


A  LIFE  GUARD'S  ALARM  179 

"Oh,  what  a  world!"  sighed  the  comedian,  as 
he  began  whistling  the  latest  comic  song. 

"It  looks  like  a  storm,"  remarked  Blake,  as  he 
and  Joe  came  in  one  evening  from  a  stroll  on  the 
beach. 

"And  when  it  does  come,"  added  Joe,  "it's  go- 
ing to  be  a  bad  one,  so  old  Abe,  the  fisherman, 
says.  They're  putting  storm  signals  up  all  along 
the  coast,  and  all  leaves  of  absence  for  the  life 
guards  have  been  cancelled  for  the  next  week.  A 
storm  sometimes  lasts  that  long,  Abe  says." 

"A  storm;  eh?"  remarked  Mr.  Ringold,  ab- 
sentmindedly.  "Well,  that  will  interfere  with  our 
plans  for  to-morrow.  I  had  intended  to  have 
some  peaceful  scenes  on  the  beach;  but  I'll  post- 
pone them.  I  wish  I  could  work  out  this  wreck 
problem,"  he  added,  as  he  pored  over  the  manu- 
script of  the  sea  drama. 

One  did  not  need  to  go  outdoors  that  morning 
to  appreciate  the  fury  of  the  storm.  The  gale 
had  come  in  the  night,  and  the  force  of  the  wind 
had  steadily  increased  until  its  violence  was  ter- 
rific. There  was  no  rain,  as  yet,  but  the  sky  was 
obscured  by  hurrying  black  clouds. 

"Let's  go  down  to  the  beach  and  see  the  big 
waves,"  proposed  Blake  to  Joe  after  breakfast. 

"All  right,"  agreed  his  chum.     "There  won't 


l8o     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

be  anything  doing  in  the  moving  picture  line  to- 
day, I  guess." 

"Say,  that's  some  surf!"  cried  Joe  in  his  chum's 
ear,  as  they  got  to  the  sandy  stretch.  "Look  at 
those  waves !" 

"I  guess  they're  what  you  call  'mountain 
high,'  "  answered  Blake,  himself  yelling,  for  their 
ordinary  voices  could  not  be  heard  above  the 
thunder  of  the  surf  and  the  roar  of  the  gale. 

They  stood  for  a  few  minutes  watching  the  big 
rollers  pounding  on  the  sand,  and  then,  looking 
down  the  strand,  they  saw  a  figure  running  to- 
ward them. 

"Here  comes  a  life,  guard,"  remarked  Joe. 

"And  he  acts  as  if  something  was  up,"  added 
Blake. 

Nearer  came  the  man,  dressed  in  yellow  oil- 
skins, for  the  spray  from  the  sea  flew  far  inland, 
almost  like  rain.  Joe  and  Blake  had  on  rubber 
coats. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Blake,  as  the  man  came 
opposite. 

He  held  his  hands  in  funnel  shape  and  yelled : 

"A  wreck — a  big  sailing  vessel  is  coming 
ashore!  Her  masts  are  gone,  and  she  can't  get 
off !  She'll  strike  soon.  I  want  all  the  men  I  can 
get  to  help  us  with  the  breeches  buoy.  We  can't 
launch  our  boat — too  heavy  surf!" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  DOOMED   VESSEL 

"You  say  there's  a  wreck?"  cried  Blake. 

"Yes,  we  just  made  her  out  through  the  glass. 
She's  driving  on  the  rocks  fast.  The  current  is 
setting  inshore  and  the  wind  is  helping  it." 

"Where  is  she?"  asked  >„. 

"Right  down  there,"  answered  the  life  guard. 
"But  she'll  come  up  farther  this  way,"  and  he 
pointed  'iown  toward  the  rocks  opposite  which 
the  boys  had  first  surprised  the  wreckers  at  work. 

"I've  got  to  give  the  alarm,"  went  on  the  life 
saver.  "We  need  all  the  help  we  can  get.  We're 
short-handed,  anyhow,  and  two  of  our  men  were 
hurt  early  this  morning  trying  to  launch  the  surf- 
boat." 

"Can't  you  get  some  of  the  fishermen  from 
around  here?"  asked  Joe. 

"That's  what  I  came  for." 

"And  we'll  help,  too!"  cried  Blake,  bracing 
himself  by  leaning  against  the  wind,  which  seemed 
to  grow  stronger  every  minute. 


182     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Sure  we  will,"  added  Joe.  "Can  you  see  the 
vessel  ?"  he  asked,  peering  eagerly  into  the  spume 
and  spray. 

"Maybe  she's  drifted  far  enough  up  by  now," 
went  on  the  coast  guard,  as  he  looked  intently  in, 
the  direction  he  had  pointed.  "Yes,"  he  cried  a 
moment  later,  "I  can  catch  glimpses  of  her  at 
times,  when  the  waves  go  down  a  bit.  See ! 
There  she  is  now !" 

Looking  in  the  direction  the  guard  pointed, 
Blake  and  Joe  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  distant  black 
object  rising  and  falling  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind 
and  waves.  It  was  the  hull  of  a  vessel,  and  when 
Blake  used  the  glass  the  guard  handed  him  a  mo- 
ment later,  he  could  see  the  jagged  stumps  of 
broken  masts. 

"She's  in  a  bad  way,"  remarked  the  lad, 
gravely. 

"Indeed  she  is,"  assented  the  life  saver. 

"I  wonder  if  my  father  is  in  any  such  storm 
as  this,  on  his  way  to  China?"  mused  Joe,  as  he, 
too,  looked  through  the  binoculars. 

"It's  a  bad  storm — and  a  big  one,  too,"  said 
the  guard.  "But"  I  must  hurry  on  and  give  the 
alarm  to  the  fishermen.  The  ship  will  strike  soon, 
and  we  want  to  send  a  line  aboard  if  we  can." 

"Wait!"  cried  Blake,  as  the  man  started  off. 
"We'll  tell  the  fishermen.  You  can  go  back  to 


THE  DOOMED  VESSEL  183 

the  station.  We'll  come  to  help  as  soon  as  we 
can,  and  bring  all  the  men  we  can  find." 

"Good !"  shouted  the  man.  "It'll  take  some  time 
to  get  the  apparatus  in  shape,  and  we'll  have  to 
drag  it  up  the  beach  from  the  station,  to  about  the 
place  where  she'll  come  on  the  rocks.  Go  ahead, 
give  the  alarm,  and  I'll  go  back.  Whew!  But 
this  is  a  fierce  storm !" 

"Come  on !"  cried  Blake  to  his  chum,  and  they 
raced  toward  the  little  fishing  hamlet. 

"Say !'  shouted  Joe.    "I've  got  an  idea !" 

"What  is  it?" 

"The  wreck — it'll  come  close  on  shore,  the 
guard  says ;  why  not  make  some  moving  pictures 
of  it?  They'll  be  just  what  Mr.  Hadley  wants." 

"That's  it!"  yelled  Blake.  "You've  struck  it, 
Go  on  and  tell  Mr.  Ringold,  Mr.  Hadley  and  the 
others,  and  I'll  get  the  fishermen.  Then  we'll 
go  down  the  beach  until  we  meet  the  life  savers. 
It's  a  great  chance,  Joe !" 

The  lads  separated,  one  to  arouse  the  fisher- 
men, most  of  whom  were  in  their  shacks,  for  it 
was  out  of  the  question  to  lift  the  nets  in  the 
tremendous  seas  that  were  running. 

"Come  on!"  cried  Blake,  as  he  saw  old  Abe 
Haskill  come  out  to  look  at  the  weather.  "Wreck 
— ship  coming  ashore.  The  coast  guards  need 
help!" 


184     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Aye,  aye,  lad.  We're  with  you!"  cried  the 
sturdy  old  man.  "I'll  get  the  boys.  A  wreck; 
eh?  Pity  the  poor  sailors  that  come  ashore  in 
such  a  blow!" 

Having  given  the  alarm,  Blake  turned  back  to 
join  his  chum  and  the  others  of  the  theatrical 
colony. 

"We  may  need  all  three  cameras,"  he  reasoned ; 
"it  is  such  a  good  chance  we  don't  want  to  risk 
it  on  one  film." 

Blake  found  Mr.  Hadley  and  his  chum,  with 
the  theatrical  manager  and  the  male  members  of 
the  company,  ready  to  set  out.  Joe  had  his  own 
camera,  while  Mr.  Hadley  was  getting  the  largest 
one  in  readiness. 

"Let's  take  the  automatic,  too,"  suggested  Joe. 
"We  can  start  it  going  and  not  have  to  worry 
about  it." 

"All  right,"  agreed  Blake. 

"Say,  this  is  the  very  chance  we  wanted !"  cried 
Mr.  Ringold.  "Think  of  it!  A  regular  wreck, 
right  at  our  doors !" 

"Oh,  but  the  poor  sailors !"  exclaimed  Miss 
Shay.  "I  do  hope  they  may  be  saved !" 

"Of  course  they  can!"  cried  C.  C.  Piper. 
"We'll  all  help.  Never  fear;  we'll  save  them !" 

His  tone  and  manner,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
words,  were  in  such  contrast  to  his  usual  de- 


THE  DOOMED  VESSEL  185 

meaner  that  everyone  looked  at  his  or  her 
neighbor  in  surprise. 

"Don't  give  up !"  went  on  the  comedian,  cheer- 
fully. "We'll  help  the  life  guards — we'll  do  any- 
thing. We'll  save  those  sailors!" 

"Well,  get  on  to  Gloomy;  would  you!"  ex- 
claimed Joe,  in  a  low  voice,  to  his  chum.  "That 
is  the  best  ever !  It's  the  first  time  he  hasn't  pre- 
dicted a  calamity." 

"And  just  when  anyone  else  would,"  added 
Blake.  "For  it  sure  is  going  to  be  hard  work  to 
save  anyone  from  a  vessel  that  comes  ashore  in 
such  a  storm  as  this,"  and  he  looked  toward  the 
tumbling  billows  in  view  from  the  windows. 

Films  were  threaded  into  the  moving  picture 
cameras,  the  mechanism  was  tested,  and  then  the 
whole  company,  even  to  the  ladies,  set  forth. 

"I  hope  the  wreck  gets  near  enough  so  we  can 
get  some  good  pictures  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Ringolcl. 

"It'll  have  to  come  pretty  well  in  shore,  or  the 
breeches  buoy  rope  won't  reach,"  said  Mr.  Had- 
ley.  "I  guess  we  can  get  some  good  pictures." 

"It's  good  it  doesn't  rain,"  went  on  the  the- 
atrical man ;  "though  I  think  it's  going  to,  soon. 
We'll  have  to  get  up  on  some  elevation  to  avoid 
the  spray." 

Down  the  beach  they  made  their  way,  to  be 
joined  presently  by  the  band  of  sturdy  fishermen. 


186     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"There  she  is!"  cried  old  Abe,  as  he  pointed 
out  to  sea.  "There  she  is,  blowing  and  drifting 
in  fast.  And  right  toward  the  Dolphin  Rocks, 
too — the  worst  place  on  the  beach!"  They  all 
gazed  toward  the  doomed  vessel,  that  was  now 
much  nearer  shore.  Blake  even  thought  he  could 
descry  figures  on  deck,  clinging  to  the  stumps  of 
masts. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

OUT    OF    THE    WRECK 

"HERE  come  the  life  savers!"  cried  Blake  a 
little  later,  as  through  the  spray  that  flew  over 
the  beach  a  party  of  men,  in  yellow  oilskins,  could 
be  seen  dragging  something  over  the  sand. 

"Yes,  and  few  enough  of  'em  there  are  to  do 
the  work,"  said  old  Abe  Haskill.  "The  govern- 
ment ought  to  put  more  men  at  the  station." 

"Some  were  hurt,  trying  to  launch  the  boat 
this  morning,"  said  Joe. 

"Very  likely,"  agreed  the  old  fisherman.  "The 
sea  can  be  cruel  when  it  wants  to." 

"And  there  comes  Tom  Cardiff!"  added  Blake, 
as  he  pointed  to  another  oncoming  figure. 

"Yes,  and  Harry  Stanton  is  with  him,"  re- 
marked Abe.  "They  must  have  left  the  light- 
house to  look  after  itself,  and  they're  going  to 
help  in  the  rescue." 

"No  danger  to  the  light,  now  that  them  pesky 
wreckers  have  been  caught,"  remarked  one  of  the 
fishermen. 

187 


188    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Boom !"  came  a  dull  report  over  the  waste  of 
tumultuous  waters. 

"What's  that?"  asked  Blake. 

"The  signal  gun!"  cried  Abe.  "She  must  be 
sinking  and  they  want  us  to  hurry  help.  But 
she's  too  far  out  yet  for  a  line  to  reach  her." 

Again  the  signal  gun  sounded,  and  hearing  it, 
the  life  savers  hastened  their  pace,  but  it  was 
hard  work  dragging  their  apparatus  through  the 
sand. 

"Let's  help  'em !"  cried  Joe.  "The  ship  is  drift- 
ing up  this  way.  If  we  make  pictures  it  will  have 
to  be  from  about  here.  Let's  help  drag  the 
wagon !" 

"That's  right!"  echoed  Blake,  and  the  boys, 
leaving  their  cameras  in  charge  of  Mr.  Hadley, 
hastened  to  relieve  the  fagged-out  life  savers. 
The  fishermen  and  some  of  the  theatrical  men 
joined  in  also. 

"Right  about  here,"  directed  the  captain  of  the 
life  saving  crew,  when  the  cart  containing  the 
gun,  "shears"  and  other  parts  of  the  breeches 
buoy  had  been  dragged  farther  along.  "She'll 
strike  about  here,  I  fancy." 

The  doomed  vessel  was  now  much  nearer 
shore,  and  on  her  wave-washed  decks  could  be 
seen  the  sailors,  some  of  them  lashed  to  the 
stumps  of  masts,  others  to  whatever  of  the  stand- 


'OUT  OF  THE  WRECK  189 

ing  rigging  offered  a  hold  against  the  grasp  of 
the  sea. 

"Get  ready,  men!"  the  commander  went  on. 
"The  wind  is  bringing  her  in  fast,  and  it's  going 
to  be  against  us  shooting  a  line  over  her,  but 
we'll  do  our  best.  If  she  strikes  now,  so  much 
the  better." 

"Why?"  asked  Blake,  wonderingly. 

"Because  then  she'll  be  stationary,  and  we  can 
keep  our  main  line  taut.  If  she  keeps  drifting  in- 
shore while  we're  hauling  the  buoy  back  and 
forth  it  means  that  we'll  have  to  keep  tightening 
up  all  the  while." 

"There,  she's  struck!"  suddenly  called  one  of 
the  life  savers.  All  gazed  out  to  sea,  where,  amid 
a  smother  of  foam,  the  craft  could  be  seen.  Her 
change  in  position  was  evident.  Her  decks  sloped 
more,  and  instead  of  drifting  she  remained  in  one 
position. 

"The  rocks  have  gripped  her,"  spoke  old  Abe, 
solemnly.  "She'll  go  to  pieces  soon  now." 

"Then  get  busy!"  cried  C.  C.  Piper,  who 
seemed  not  to  have  lost  his  strangely  cheerful 
mood.  "Save  those  men!" 

"That's  what  we're  going  to  do,"  said  the  cap- 
tain. "All  ready  now,  men." 

"And  that  means  we'd  better  get  busy,  Joe," 
said  Blake.  "We  can't  do  anything  to  help  just 


190     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

now.  Besides,  there  are  a  lot  of  men  here.  We 
must  get  our  cameras  in  place." 

"That's  right,  Blake,"  and  the  two  lads  got 
their  apparatus  in  shape  to  operate,  Mr.  Hadley 
doing  the  same.  The  machines  were  set  up  on 
some  sand  hills,  far  enough  back  to  be  out  of  the 
spray,  which  was  like  a  fog  close  to  the  surface 
of  the  water. 

While  some  of  the  life  savers  and  their  volun- 
teer assistants  were  burying  in  the  sand  the  heavy 
anchor  that  was  to  hold  one  end  of  the  rope  on 
which  the  breeches  buoy  would  travel,  others  were 
getting  ready  to  fire  the  gun. 

In  brief,  the  breeches  buoy  is  operated  as  fol- 
lows :  A  small  mortar,  or  cannon,  is  used,  and 
an  elongated  projectile  is  placed  in  it.  Attached  to 
the  projectile  is  a  thin  and  strong  line.  It  is  coiled 
in  a  box  and  placed  on  the  sand  near  the  mortar. 
The  coils  are  laid  around  pegs  in  a  peculiar  man- 
ner to  prevent  tangling.  The  pegs  are  then 
pulled  out,  and  the  coils  lie  one  upon  the  other 
so  that  the  line  may  be  paid  out  rapidly. 

When  the  projectile  is  fired  toward  the  ship, 
the  aim  is  to  make  it  shoot  over  her  deck,  carry- 
ing the  cord  with  it.  This  is  called  "getting  a 
line  aboard."  Once  this  is  done  the  crew  on  the 
vessel  can,  by  means  of  the  small  cord,  pull 


'OUT  OF  THE  WRECK  191 

aboard  a  heavy  cable.  This  is  made  fast  to  the 
highest  point  possible. 

There  is  now  a  cable  extending  from  the  shore 
to  the  ship,  the  shore  end  being  made  fast  to  the 
anchor  in  the  sand.  The  cable  is  raised  as  high 
as  possible  on  a  pair  of  wooden  "shears,"  to  keep 
it  above  the  waves. 

Running  on  pulley  wheels,  on  this  stout,  tight 
rope,  is  the  "breeches  buoy."  This  is  literally  a 
pair  of  canvas  breeches,  into  which  the  person  to 
be  saved  places  himself,  getting  into  the  apparatus 
from  the  deck  of  the  sinking  ship.  There  is  a 
line  fast  to  the  buoy,  one  end  being  on  shore. 
When  the  signal  is  given  those  on  the  beach  pull, 
the  buoy  and  the  person  in  it  are  pulled  along  the 
tight  rope  by  means  of  the  pulleys  to  the  beach 
and  saved,  though  often  they  are  well  drenched 
in  the  process.  Those  remaining  on  the  ship  now 
pull  the  empty  buoy  back,  and  other  persons  come 
ashore  until  all  are  saved. 

Sometimes,  instead  of  the  canvas  breeches,  a 
small  enclosed  car  is  used  to  slide  along  the  rope. 
In  this  car  more  than  one  person  can  get,  and 
they  are  protected  from  the  waves. 

"All  ready?"  asked  the  captain  of  the  life 
saving  crew,  after  he  had  inspected  what  his  men 
and  the  others  helping  them  had  done. 

"All  ready,  sir !"  came  the  response. 


192     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Then  fire!" 

The  mortar  boomed,  through  the  wind  shot  the 
projectile  toward  the  ship,  carrying  with  it  the 
swiftly  uncoiling  rope.  All  watched  anxiously. 

"Too  short !"  cried  the  captain  a  moment  later, 
lowering  the  glass  through  which  he  had  watched 
the  effect  of  the  shot.  "Use  a  little  more  powder 
this  time." 

The  projectile  was  hauled  back  through  the 
waves,  and  attached  to  another  line,  coiled  in 
readiness,  while  some  of  the  life  savers  busied 
themselves  recoiling  the  first  rope,  in  case  the 
second  shot  failed  too. 

It  did,  again  falling  short. 

"Try  more  powder,"  said  the  captain,  grimly. 
"We've  got  to  reach  her." 

"And  soon,"  murmured  old  Abe.  "She's  break- 
ing up  fast." 

Once  more  the  mortar  was  fired,  Blake  and  Joe, 
as  well  as  Mr.  Hadley,  getting  films  of  every 
move. 

"There  she  goes !"  cried  the  captain,  in  delight, 
as  he  watched  the  third  shot.  "Over  her  decks  as 
clean  as  you'd  want !  Now  to  get  the  poor  souls 
ashore !" 

On  board  the  wrecked  ship  could  be  observed 
a  scene  of  activity.  The  sailors  began  hauling  on 
the  line,  and  presently  the  big  cable  began  paying 


'OUT  OF  THE  WRECK  193 

out  from  shore.  Soon  it  reached  the  side  of  the 
ship,  to  be  hauled  up,  and  made  fast  to  the  stump 
of  one  of  the  masts. 

"Lively  now,  boys!"  cried  the  captain.  "Pull 
taut  and  then  run  out  the  buoy.  She  can't  last 
much  longer !" 

The  men  made  redoubled  efforts,  and  Blake 
and  Joe,  leaving-  their  automatic  camera  work- 
ing, while  Mr.  Hadley  turned  the  operation  of  his 
over  to  Macaroni,  the  three  moving  picture  ex- 
perts aided  in  the  work  of  rescue. 

Soon  the  breeches  buoy  was  hauled  out  to  the 
ship  for  its  first  passenger,  and  presently  the  sag- 
ging of  the  cable  told  that  some  one  was  in  it. 

"Pull,  boys !"  cried  the  captain  of  the  life  savers, 
and  through  the  dashing  waves,  that  threw  their 
crests  over  the  shipwrecked  person,  the  buoy  was 
hauled  ashore. 

"Grab  him !"  cried  the  captain,  as  the  first  one 
saved  was  pulled  up  high  on  the  beach. 

"It  isn't  a  him,  captain !"  cried  one  of  the  men. 
"It's  a  woman !" 

"Bless  my  sea  boots!"  yelled  the  captain.  "A 
woman!  Are  there  any  more  of  you  aboard — 
or  any  children?" 

"I — I'm  the  only  one,"  was  the  panting  an- 
swer, for  she  had  swallowed  much  water.  "I'm 


194     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

the  captain's  wife.  Can  you — can  you  save  the 
others?  They  made  me  come  first." 

"That's  right!  Women  and  children  always 
first !"  shouted  the  captain. 

"Of  course  we'll  save  the  others,"  yelled  C.  C, 
who  was  running  excitedly  about,  helping  all  he 
could.  "We'll  save  every  one !"  he  repeated. 

"Gloomy  in  a  new  role — a  happy  one!"  re- 
marked Blake. 

The  buoy  was  hauled  back,  and  another  was 
saved — one  of  the  sailors,  this  time.  He  reported 
that  there  were  in  all  twenty-five  hands  on  the 
ship,  exclusive  of  the  captain. 

"He'll  come  last,  of  course,"  he  said,  simply. 

"Of  course,"  agreed  Abe  Haskill.  "The  cap- 
tain allers  does  that.  Once  more,  boys !" 

Again  was  a  rescue  effected,  the  moving  picture 
cameras  registering  faithfully  everything  that 
went  on.  The  work  had  to  be  done  quickly  now, 
for  the  vessel  was  fast  breaking  up. 

"Two  more  left!"  cried  the  chief  life  saver. 
"Jack  up  that  cable,  boys ;  she's  sagging.  I  guess 
the  old  ship  is  working  farther  in.  Jack  her  up !" 

By  means  of  pulleys  attached  to  the  main  rope 
it  was  made  tauter.  Then  came  a  heavy  sag  on  it. 

"What's  that?"  asked  one  of  the  life  savers. 

"It's  two  of  'em — two  of  'em,  clinging  to  the 
buoy !"  cried  Blake,  who  was  watching  through  a 


VUT  OF  THE  WRECK  195 

glass.  "I  guess  the  ship  must  be  going  to  pieces 
too  fast  to  allow  for  another  trip.  You've  got  to 
save  two  at  once." 

"And  we  can  do  it!"  cried  the  captain.  "All 
together,  now,  boys!  But  they're  going  to  get 
wet!" 

By  reason  of  the  added  weight  the  rope  was 
sagging  badly,  and  the  men  clinging  to  the  buoy 
could  be  seen  half  in  and  half  out  of  the  water. 

"Lively,  men,  or  they'll  drown!"  yelled  the 
captain. 

Hardy  and  intrepid  as  were  the  life-savers  and 
the  volunteers  who  had  assembled  to  help  them, 
they  paused  a  moment  now.  It  seemed  impossible 
that  the  two  in  the  buoy  could  be  pulled  ashore  in 
time  to  be  saved. 

Over  them  broke  great  seas,  the  waves  hissing 
and  foaming  as  though  angry  at  being  cheated  of 
their  prey.  The  storm-swept  waters  seemed  to 
seize  on  the  rope,  as  though  to  pull  it  beneath  the 
billows.  The  anchor  that  held  the  rope  which 
passed  over  the  "shears"  seemed  to  be  pulling  out 
of  the  sand  packed  around  it. 

"Come  on,  men!"  cried  the  captain.  "Take  a1 
brace  now,  and  we'll  have  'em  ashore  in  a  jiffy!" 

"But  she's  slipping!"  cried  a  grizzled  seaman. 
"She  can't  hold  any  longer.  The  whole  business 
is  going!" 


196     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"She  can't  go  until  we  git  'em  ashore !"  yelled 
the  captain  of  the  life-savers.  "I  won't  let  her! 
Here,  Jim  Black,  you  mosey  back  there  and  pile 
more  sand  around  that  anchor.  Now  then,  men, 
pull  as  though  you  meant  it.  What !  You're  not 
going  to  have  it  said  that  you  let  a  little  cat's  paw 
of  wind  like  this  beat  you;  are  you?" 

Something  of  the  captain's  courage  seemed  to 
infuse  itself  into  his  men.  They  had  been  half- 
hearted before,  but  they  were  brave  now.  Once 
more  they  ranged  themselves  on  the  rope  that  was 
used  to  haul  the  buoy  from  the  ship  to  shore.  It 
was  as  though  the  waves  had  tried  to  intimidate 
them,  and  had  been  bidden  defiance. 

The  weight  of  the  two  persons  in  the  buoy  was 
almost  too  much.  The  waves  had  a  doubly  large 
surface  against  which  to  break,  and  well  the  cap- 
tain knew  that  there  was  a  limit  to  the  strain  to 
which  the  tackle  could  be  subjected.  Once  the 
main  rope  leading  from  the  anchor  to  the  ship, 
on  which  cable  the  buoy  ran,  parted,  and  nothing 
could  save  those  last  two  lives.  No  wonder  the 
captain  wanted  haste. 

"Haul  away!"  he  bellowed  through  the  roar  of 
the  wind,  using  his  hands  as  a  trumpet.  "Haul 
away,  men!" 

His  companions  braced  themselves  in  the  shift- 
ing sand.  They  bent  their  backs.  Their  arms 


OUT  OF  THE  WRECK  197 

swelled  into  bunches  of  muscles  that  had  been 
trained  in  the  hard  school  of  the  sea. 

"\Yill  the  haul-rope  stand  it?"  cried  one  man. 

"She's  got  to  stand  it!"  cried  the  captain. 
"She's  just  got  to!  Pull,  men;  you're  not  half 
hauling!" 

"If  that  rope  gives,"  faltered  an  old,  gray- 
haired  man,  who  seemed  too  aged  for  this  life, 
"if  that  rope  gives  way " 

"Don't  you  talk  about  it !"  snapped  the  captain. 
"I'll  take  all  the  responsibility  of  that  rope.  It'll 
hold  all  right.  I  looked  at  it  the  other  day.  All 
you've  got  to  do  is  pull !  Do  you  hear  me  ?  Pull 
as  you  never  pulled  before !" 

Once  more  the  backs  of  the  men  bent  to  the 
strain.  The  moving  picture  boys,  watching  and 
waiting ;  filled  with  anxiety  even  as  they  filmed  the 
wreck,  saw  that  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  waves 
had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  the  rescue. 

"They  can  pull  better  when  the  waves  don't 
wash  over  those  two  poor  souls  in  the  buoy," 
observed  Blake. 

"Yes,  there's  less  resistance,"  agreed  Joe.  "Oh, 
there  comes  a  big  one !"  and,  as  he  spoke,  an  im- 
mense comber  buried  from  sight  the  two  whom 
the  life-savers  were  endeavoring  to  pull  from  the 
grip  of  the  sea. 

"If   they   can   only   hold   their   breaths   long 


198     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

enough,  they  may  come  through  it,"  said  Blake. 
"But  it's  a  tough  proposition." 

"It  sure  is,"  agreed  his  chum.  They  had  gone 
back  to  snap  a  few  pictures,  and  then,  finding  that 
the  automatic  apparatus  was  working  well,  they 
again  joined  the  group  on  the  sands. 

"Another  pull  or  two  and  we'll  have  'CHI 
ashore !"  yelled  the  captain.  "Lively,  men !" 

As  he  spoke  a  grizzled  seaman  rushed  up  to 
him. 

"That  anchor's  slippin'  ag'in!"  he  bellowed 
through  the  noise  of  the  storm.  "I  can't  put  sand 
on  fast  enough  to  hold  it!" 

"Then  I'll  have  some  one  help  you !"  cried  the 
captain.  "Here,  Si  Watson !  You  git  back  there 
and  help  Jim  pile  sand  on  that  anchor.  It  mustn't 
be  allowed  to  pull  out — do  you  understand?  It 
mustn't  pull  out  if — if  you  have  to — sit  on  it !" 

"Aye — aye,  sir,"  was  the  answer,  and  the  two 
men  ran  back  to  where  the  anchor  was  buried  in 
the  beach,  to  pile  the  sand  on  with  the  shovels 
provided  for  that  purpose. 

"Now  one  more  pull,  and  we'll  have  'em  safe!" 
yelled  the  captain  a  little  later,  and  with  a  mighty 
haul  his  men  bent  to  their  task. 

"There  they  come  through  the  last  line  of  surf!" 
yelled  Joe,  pointing  to  the  buoy  containing  the 
two  shipwrecked  persons. 


OUT  'OP  THE  WRECK  199 

"If  only  the  rope  holds,"  murmured  his  chum. 

Even  as  he  spoke  there  came  a  cry  from  the 
two  men  who  had  been  sent  to  watch  that  the 
anchor  in  the  sand  did  not  drag. 

"It's  coming!  It's  coming  out!"  shouted  one 
of  them. 

"Sit  on  it!  Hold  it  down!"  yelled  the  captain. 
"Into  the  water  after  'em,  boys!  Come  on,  ye 
old  seadogs!" 

There  was  a  snap — the  rope  had  parted,  but  so 
near  to  the  beach  were  the  two  that  the  life-savers 
waded  into  the  foam  and  spume,  and  grabbed 
them,  holding  them  safe. 

They  were  hauled  to  the  beach,  on  which  hud- 
dled the  others  who  had  been  saved  from  the 
wreck. 

The  lone  woman  had  been  taken   in  charge 

v  by  the  feminine  members  of  the  theatrical  troupe, 

who  led  her  toward  their  boarding  house.     They 

said  they  would  soon  have  hot  coffee  ready  for  all 

the  sailors. 

"Get  'em  out  of  the  buoy!"  cried  the  captain, 
as  the  two  last  rescued  were  seen  to  be  well-nigh 
insensible.  They  were  assisted  out,  and  sank 
helpless  on  the  sand. 

"Pretty  far  gone,"  remarked  a  life  saver.  "One 
must  be  the  captain,  I  reckon." 

"And  the  other,"  began  Harry  Stanton,  keeper 


200     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

of  the  Rockypoint  light;  "the  other — why,  if  it 
isn't  Nate  Duncan,  who  used  to  be  my  assistant ! 
He  came  out  of  the  wreck — Nate  Duncan !" 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A    NEW   QUEST 

FROM  where  he  was  standing  by  a  group  of  the 
rescued  sailors,  Joe  Duncan  heard  what  the  light- 
house keeper  said.  The  lad  rushed  forward. 

"Nate  Duncan !"  he  repeated,  as  he  gazed  at  the 
two  men,  who  were  just  beginning  to  revive  under 
the  application  of  stimulants.  "Which  one  of  you 
is  Mr.  Duncan?"  he  asked,  eagerly. 

"I — I  am,"  faltered  the  younger  of  the  two 
men.  "Why,  who  wants  me.  Oh,  it's  you,  Harry 
Stanton,"  and  he  looked  at  the  lighthouse  keeper 
standing  near  him.  "I — I  can  explain  every- 
thing. I " 

"It  wasn't  I  who  asked,"  spoke  the  lighthouse 
keeper.  "It  was  this  lad  here,"  and  he  indicated 
Joe.  "Your  son." 

"My  son!"  cried  the  rescued  man.  "Are  you 
sure — can  it  be  true.  Oh,  is  it  possible?  Don't 
disappoint  me!  Are  you  my  son?"  and  he  held 
out  his  hands  to  Joe. 

201 


202     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS.  'ON  THE  COAST. 

"I — I  think  so,  father,"  spoke  the  boy,  softly. 
"I — I  have  been  looking  for  you  a  long  time." 

"And  I  have,  too,  Joe;  yes,  you  are  my  boy. 
I  can  see  it  now.  Oh,  the  dear  Lord  be  praised !" 
and  there  was  moisture  in  his  eyes  that  was  not' 
the  salt  from  the  raging  sea. 

"But — but,"  went  on  Joe.  "I  thought  you  went 
to  China.  I  wrote  to  you  at  Hong  Kong." 

"I  did  start  for  there,  Joe;  but  the  vessel  on 
which  I  sailed  was  wrecked,  and  this  craft,  bound 
back  for  San  Francisco,  picked  us  up.  So  I  didn't 
get  very  far.  Oh,  but  I  have  found  my  boy !" 

The  others  drew  a  little  aside  while  father  and 
son,  so  strangely  restored  to  each  other  by  the 
fury  of  the  sea,  clasped  each  other  close. 

"Now,  friends,"  said  Mr.  Ringold,  bustling  up ; 
"those  of  you  who  are  wet  through  had  better  let 
us  take  care  of  you.  We  have  room  for  you  all, 
and  I'll  send  word  to  any  of  your  friends  if  you'll 
give  me  the  addresses.  Your  wreck,  in  a  way, 
has  been  a  great  thing  for  me,  for  I  have  obtained 
some  wonderful  moving  pictures  of  it  and  this 
rescue.  It  will  make  a  great  drama.  So  I  want 
to  help  you  all  I  can." 

By  this  time  the  captain  of  the  vessel  had  been 
revived  and  with  his  wife  and  crew  was  taken 
to  the  theatrical  boarding  place,  where  the  women 
busied  themselves  getting  warm  drinks  and  food, 


A  NEW  QUEST  203 

and  the  men  changed  into  dry  garments  loaned 
by  the  fishermen  and  the  others.  Soon  after  the 
last  one  came  ashore  the  wreck  broke  up  and 
sank. 

"Well,  of  all  the  wonderful  things  I  ever  ex- 
perienced, this  is  the  most  marvelous,"  declared 
Mr.  Duncan,  as  he  sat  with  his  son's  hand  in  his. 
"I  am  wrecked  t\vic«,  and  come  back  to  the  same 
place  I  ran  away  from,  to  find  Joe  waiting  for 
me." 

"It  is  wonderful,"  agreed  Joe,  wondering  how 
he  was  going  to  bring  up  the  subject  of  the 
wreckers. 

"Yes,  this  is  the  very  place  I  left  in  such  a 
hurry,  a  few  months  ago,"  went  on  Mr.  Duncan. 

"Would  you  mind  telling  me  why  you  left  so 
suddenly?"  asked  the  lighthouse  keeper,  solemnly. 
"Of  course  it's  none  of  my  affair;  but  I  might 
say  it  concerns  you  mightily,  Nate  Duncan.  Can 
you  prove  your  innocence?" 

"Prove  my  innocence!  Of  what  charge?" 
cried  the  man. 

"Oh,  father,  of  course  we  don't  believe  it!" 
burst  out  Joe,  unable  to  keep  silent  longer;  "but 
Hemp  Dan  forth  says  you  were  implicated  with 
him  in  wrecking  boats  by  means  of  false  lights !" 

"Hemp  Danforth  says  that !"  cried  Joe's  father. 


204     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

"Yes.  Tell  me — tell  all  of  them — that  it  isn't 
so !"  pleaded  the  lad. 

"Of  course  it  isn't  so,  Joe." 

"But  why  did  you  leave  so  suddenly,  and  why 
did  the  officer  come  for  you  the  next  day?"  asked 
the  lighthouse  keeper.  "It  looked  bad,  Nate." 

"I  suppose  it  did,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  slowly. 
"But  it  can  easily  be  explained.  I  was  mixed  up 
with  those  wreckers " 

"Father!"  cried  Joe. 

*'But  not  the  way  you  think,  son,"  went  on  the 
former  lighthouse  worker  quickly.  "Hemp  Dan- 
forth  and  I  had  a  quarrel.  It  was  over  some 
business  matters  that  he  and  I  were  mixed  up 
in  before  I  learned  that  he  and  his  gang  were 
wreckers. 

"We  quarreled,  because  he  tried  to  defraud 
me  of  my  rights,  and  I  had  to  give  him  a  severe 
beating.  Perhaps  I  was  wrong,  but  I  acted  on 
impulse.  Then  I  heard  that  Hemp,  to  get  even,, 
had  accused  me  of  being  a  wrecker,  and  he  had 
his  men  ready  to  swear  to  false  testimony  about 
me;  even  that  I  let  the  light  go  out,  which  I 
never  did. 

"I  knew  I  could  not  refute  it,  especially  at  that 
time,  and  as  something  came  up  that  made  it 
necessary  for  me  to  leave  for  China  at  once,  I 
decided  to  go  away.  I  realize  now  that  it  must 


A  NEW  QUEST  205 

have  looked  bad,  especially  after  the  charge 
against  me.  But  now  I  am  ready  to  stay  and 
face  it.  I  can  prove  that  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  wrecking,  and  that  as  soon  as  I  learned 
that  Hemp  and  his  gang  were  concerned  in  it  I 
left  them.  If  we  can  get  hold  of  Hemp  I  can 
easily  make  him  acknowledge  this." 

"You  can  easily  get  hold  of  him,"  said  Blake. 
"He  and  his  crowd  are  all  in  jail.  They  were 
caught  in  the  act  of  setting  a  false  light." 

"And  I  don't  believe  you'll  even  have  to  prove 
your  innocence,"  said  Mr.  Ringold.  "They'll  be 
convicted,  and  their  evidence  will  never  be  ac- 
cepted. You  are  already  cleared,  Mr.  Duncan," 

"My  name  cleared — and  my  son  with  me — 
what  else  could  I  want?"  murmured  the  happy 
man. 

"But,  Dad,"  asked  Joe,  his  face  showing  his 
delight  that  he  could  now  use  that  word.  "Why 
did  you  have  to  leave  so  suddenly  ?" 

"To  try  and  find  your  sister,  Joe." 

"My  sister?" 

"Yes,  I  have  a  daughter,  as  well  as  a  son," 
went  on  Mr.  Duncan.  "I  have  found  one,  and 
now  to  find  the  other." 

"Where  is  she ?"  cried  Joe.  "What  is  she  like? 
Did  I  ever  see  her  when  we  were  both  little  ?" 

"Indeed  you  did,  and  when  your  mother  died 


206    MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COASTt 

I  left  you  with  a  family,  who  later  disappeared. 
You  must  tell  me  your  story,  Joe,  and  how  you 
found  me.  But  now  as  to  your  sister. 

"Most  unexpectedly,  after  years  of  searching1, 
I  got  word  that  she  had  been  brought  up  in  a 
minister's  family,  and  that  lately  she  had  gone 
as  a  missionary's  helper  to  China.  I  had  long 
planned  to  take  a  sea  voyage,  and  when  I  got  this 
news  I  decided  to  go  at  once,  and  bring  her  back. 
Then  I  was  to  renew  my  search  for  you. 

"An  agent  in  San  Francisco  told  me  of  a  vessel 
about  to  sail  for  Hong  Kong,  and  I  deserted  my 
post  at  the  lighthouse  and  sailed.  I  admit  I  did 
wrong  in  leaving  so  suddenly,  but  it  seemed  to 
be  the  best  thing  to  do.  I  did  not  want  to  be  ar- 
rested as  a  wrecker  even  though  I  was  innocent." 

"I'll  forgive  you,"  said  Mr.  Stanton,  with  a 
smile.  "I'm  so  glad  to  learn  you're  not  one  of 
them  pesky  wreckers." 

And  then  begun  a  long  series  of  explanations, 
Mr.  Duncan  listening  with  interest  to  Joe's  story, 
and,  in  turn,  telling  how  his  vessel  was  wrecked, 
and  how  he  and  the  others  were  picked  up,  only 
to  be  wrecked  again,  nearer  home. 

Joe's  father  paused  a  moment  and  then  said : 

"But,  son,  tell  me  something  of  yourself.  I've 
been  doing  all  the  talking,  it  seems.  Are  you 


A  NEW  QUEST  207 

really  in  this  queer  business  of  taking  moving 
pictures  ?" 

"That's  what  I  am,  Dad— Blake  and  I.  We've 
been  in  it  some  time,  and  we're  doing  well.  We 
hope  to  be  in  it  some  time  longer,  too.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  these  pictures  I  might  never  have 
found  you." 

"That's  so,  Joe.  After  this  I'll  never  pass  a 
moving  picture  theatre  without  thinking  what  it 
I/as  done  for  me.  It  gave  me  back  my  boy !" 

"Now  I  think  you  have  talked  enough,  Mr. 
Duncan,"  said  one  of  the  women,  coming  up. 
"You  had  a  much  harder  time  of  it  than  we  did, 
and  you  must  quiet  down.  You  must  have  swal- 
lowed a  lot  of  salt  water." 

"I  guess  I  did — enough  to  preserve  about  a 
barrel  of  pickles,"  he  admitted,  with  a  smile.  "I 
would  be  glad  of  a  little  rest.  But  you  won't 
leave  me ;  will  you,  Joe  ?" 

"No  indeed,  Dad.  I've  had  enough  trouble  rind- 
ing you  to  lose  you  now.  But  you  get  a  good 
rest.  Blake  and  I  have  a  lot  to  do  yet.  I  want 
to  get  these  latest  films  in  shape  to  send  off  for 
development.  I  hope  they  came  out  good." 

"I  don't  see  how  they  could — with  the  weather 
conditions  what  they  were,"  remarked  C.  C.  Piper, 
joining  the  group. 


208     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST. 

-"Now  that  isn't  a  nice  thing  to  say,"  Miss 
Lee  reminded  him.  "Why  can't  you  be  cheerful  ?" 

"Why,  I'm  not  at  all  gloomy.    I  only  said— 
x     "You  tried  to  throw  cold  water  on  what  the 
boys  did,"  she  reminded  him. 

"Water!  Say,  if  anybody  says  water  to  me 
again  to-day,  I  don't  know  what  I  will  do!"  ex- 
claimed Blake.  "Shame  on  you,  C.  C. !  You 
ought  to  be  more  careful." 

"Oh,  well,  I  didn't  mean  anything.  I  guess 
those  pictures  will  be  all  right — if  the  salt  spray 
doesn't  spoil  the  celluloid,"  he  added,  as  he  moved 
off. 

"You're  hopeless,"  declared  Miss  Lee.  "I'll 
never  speak  to  you  again." 

The  nonsensical  talk  served  to  raise  the  spirits 
of  those  who  had  been  rather  plunged  in  gloom 
ever  since  the  wreck.  Mr.  Duncan  was  given 
a  room  to  himself  where  he  could  be  quiet  and 
recover  from  the  shock  of  having  been  so  near 
death. 

The  moving  picture  boys  found  plenty  to  do. 
In  addition  to  getting  off  to  the  developing  studio 
the  films  they  had  taken  that  day,  they  had  to 
prepare  for  a  hard  day's  work  to  follow,  for,  now 
that  he  had  the  wreck  scene,  Mr.  Ringold  declared 
that  he  needed  some  others  to  go  with  it  to  round 


A  NEW  QUEST 

out  the  drama  of  the  sea  that  he  had  in  rt]ind  when 
coming  to  the  coast. 

It  may  seem  that  it  would  not  pay  to  go  to 
such  big  expense  to  make  a  single  films  play,  or 
even  one  or  two,  but  I  assure  my  readers  that  it 
is  not  uncommon  for  a  concern  to  spend  ten 
thousand  dollars  in  making  a  single  play,  and 
some  elaborate  productions,  such  as  Shakespearian 
plays,  and  historical  dramas,  will  cost  over  fifty 
thousand  dollars  to  get  ready  to  be  filmed. 

Months  are  spent  in  preparation,  rehearsals  go 
on  day  after  day,  and  finally  the  play  itself  is 
given,  often  not  lasting  more  than  an  hour  or 
half  hour  on  the  screen,  yet  representing  many 
weary  weeks  of  work,  and  the  expenditure  of 
large  sums  of  money.  Such  is  the  moving  picture 
business  to-day. 

The  boys  were  kept  busy  nearly  all  the  rest  of 
that  week,  and  then  came  a  period  of  calm.  Joe 
sought  out  his  father,  who  had  steadily  gained  in 
strength  after  his  sensational  rescue,  and  began 
to  question  him  as  to  his  experiences,  for  Mr. 
Duncan  had  only  given  a  mere  outline  of  his  ex- 
periences up  to  this  time. 

"You  must  have  had  some  strenuous  adven- 
tures," said  Blake,  who  went  with  his  chum. 

"I  certainly  did.  But,  according  to  Joe,  here, 
they  weren't  much  more  than  what  you  boys 


210     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST. 

went  through  with  in  New  York,  and  getting 
those  Indian  films." 

"That's  right;  we  did  have  a  time,"  admitted 
Blake. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  I've  got  my  boy,  anyhow," 
went  on  the  former  lighthouse  worker,  with  a 
fond  glance  at  Joe.  "Nothing  is  worse  than  to 
have  folks,  and  not  know  where  to  find  'em.  I 
hungered  and  longed  for  Joe  for  days  and  nights, 
and  now  I  have  him.  And  I'm  not  going  to  lose 
him  again,  either,  if  I  can  help  it,"  and  he  clasped 
his  son's  hand  warmly  in  his  palm,  while  tears 
dimmed  his  eyes.  Joe,  too,  was  much  affected. 

"If  you  only  had  your  daughter  now,  you'd 
be  all  right,"  said  Blake,  anxious  to  turn  the 
subject. 

"Yes,  so  I  would.  My  poor  little  girl!  We 
must  locate  her  next,  Joe." 

"But  what  about  my  sister?"  asked  Joe.  "Can 
we  find  her?" 

"We'll  try,  Joe,  my  boy !"  exclaimed  his  father. 
"You  and  I  together." 

"Count  me  in !"  cried  Blake. 

"I  sure  will,"  agreed  Joe.  "I  wonder  what  will 
happen  to  us." 

And  what  did,  and  how  the  two  lads  went  on 
their  new  quest,  will  be  related  in  the  next  volume 
of  this  series,  to  be  entitled  "The  Moving  Picture 


A  NEW  QUEST  2Il 

Boys  in  the  Jungle;  Or,  Stirring  Times  Among 
the  Wild  Animals."  In  it  will  be  told  of  their 
adventures  and  you  may  learn  whether  or  not  they 
found  Joe's  sister. 

"Well,  we  got  everything  we  came  for,"  said 
Mr.  Ringold,  a  few  days  later,  when  the  ship- 
wrecked ones  had  been  sent  to  their  homes  with 
the  exception  of  Mr.  Duncan,  who  remained  with 
Joe. 

"Yes,  all  the  dramas,  and  the  storm  and  wreck 
as  well,"  agreed  Mr.  Hadley. 

"But  we'll  never  have  such  good  luck  again," 
predicted  C.  C.  Piper,  with  a  return  of  his  gloomy 
manner.  "I  know  something  will  happen  to  us 
on  our  way  back  East." 

"Oh,  cheer  up,"  urged  Miss  Lee;  "the  sun  is 
shining." 

"But  it  will  rain  to-morrow,"  declared  the 
comedian,  as  he  did  some  odd  little  dance  steps. 

Preparations  for  taking  the  theatrical  company 
back  East  were  made;  but  Joe,  Blake  and  Mr. 
Duncan  were  uncertain  about  accompanying 
them.  While  Joe  and  his  father  were  talking 
over  their  plans,  Blake  went  to  San  Francisco  on 
a  vacation  for  a  week. 

But  it  was  not  much  of  a  rest  for  him.  While 
there  he  learned  of  a  prize  offered  for  the  best 
moving  picture  of  the  fire  department  in  action, 


212     MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 

and,  though  many  operators  tried,  Blake's  film 
was  regarded  as  the  best.  He  "scooped"  the 
others  easily,  and  beat  some  of  the  most  skillful 
men  in  the  business. 

But  now,  for  a  time,  we  will  take  leave  of  the 
moving  picture  boys. 


THE  END 


12mo.  BOUND  IN  CLOTH.       ILLUSTRATED.        UNIFORM  STYLE  OF  BINDING. 

Moving  pictures   and  photo  plays  are  famous  the  world, 
,'over,  and  in  this  line  of  books  the  reader  is  given  a  full 
s  description  of  how  the  films  are  made — the  scenes  of  little 
dramas,  indoors  and  out,  trick  pictures  to  satisfy  the  curious, 
;  soul-stirring  pictures  of  city  affairs,  life  in  the  Wild  West, 
among  the  cowboys  and  Indians,  thrilling  rescues  along  the 
.  seacoast,  the  daring  of  picture  hunters  in  the  jungle  among 
savage  beasts,  and  the  great  risks  run  in  picturing  conditions 
in  a  land  of  earthquakes.     The  volumes  teem  with  adven- 
tures and  will  be  found  interesting  from  first  chapter  to  last. 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS 
Or  Perils  of  a  Great  City  Depicted. 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  IN  THE  WEST 
Or  Taking  Scenes  Among  the  Cowboys  and  Indians. 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  ON  THE  COAST 
Or  Showing  the  Perils  of  the  Deep. 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  IN  THE  JUNGLE 
Or  Stirring  Times  Among  the  Wild  Animals. 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  IN  EARTHQUAKE 
Dr  Working  Amid  Many  Perils.  LAND 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  AND  THE  FLOOD 
Or   Perilous  Days  on  the  Mississippi. 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  AT  PANAMA  ) 

Dr  Stirring  Adventures  Along  the  Great  Canal. 

THE  MOVING  PICTURE  BOYS  UNDER  THE  SEA] 
Or  The  Treasure  of  the  Lost  Ship. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,        NEW  YORK 


The  Railroad  Series 

BY  ALLEN  CHAPMAN. 

Ralph  Fairbanks  was  bound  to  become  a  railroad  man,  as 
)us  father  had  been  before  him.  Step  by  step  he  worked  his 
,  way  upward,  serving  first  in  the  Roundhouse,  'cleaning  locc* 
'motives;  then  in  the  Switch  Tower,  clearing  the  tracks;  then 
on  the  Engine,  as  a  fireman;  then  as  engineer  of  the  Over- 
land Express;  and  finally  as  Train  Dispatcher. 

In  this  Hne  of  books  there  is  revealed  the  whole  workings 
of  a  great  American  railroad  system.  There  are  adventures 
in  abundance — railroad  wrecks,  dashes  through  forest  fires,  the 
pursuit  of  a  "wildcat"  locomotive,  the  disappearance  of  a 
pay  car  with  a  large  sum  of  money  on  board — but  there  is 
much  more  than  this — the  intense  rivalry  among  railroads  and 
railroad  men,  the  working  out  of  running  schedules,  the  get- 
ting through "  on  time "  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  and  the 
manipulation  of  railroad  securities  by  evil  men  who  wish  to 
rule  or  ruin. 

Books  that  every  American  boy  ought  to  own. 

RALPH.  THE  TRAIN  DISPATCHER 

Or  The  Mystery  of  the  Pay  Car. 

RALPH  ON  THE  OVERLAND  EXPRESS 

Or  The  Trials  and  Triumphs  of  a  Young  Engineer. 

RALPH  ON  THE  ENGINE 

Or  The  Young  Fireman  of  the  Limited  Mail. 

UALPH  OF  THE  ROUND  HOUSE 

Or  Bound  to  Become  a  Railroad  Man. 

RALPH  IN  THE  SWITCH  TOWER 

Or  Clearing  the  Track, 
izmo.    Illustrated.    Handsomely  bound  in  cloth. 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,         -          NEW  YORK 


The    Putnam   Hall  Series 

Companion  Stories  to  the  Famous  Rover  Boys  Series 

By  ARTHUR  M.  WINFIELD 

Open-air  pastimes  have  always  been  popular  with  boys,  and 
should  always  be  encouraged.     These  books  mingle  adventure 
and  fact,  ana  will  appeal  to  every  manly  boy. 
,     nmo.    Handsomely  printed  and  illustrated.  i 

THE  PUTNAM  HALL  MYSTERY 
Or  The  School  Chums'  Strange  Discovery 
The  particulars  of  the  mystery  and  the  solution  of  it  arc  very 

interesting  reading. 

THE  PUTNAM  HALL  ENCAMPMENT 
Or  The  Secret  of  the  Old  Mill 

A  story  full  of  vim  and  vigor,  telling  what  the  cadets  did  during 
the  summer  encampment,  including  a  visit  to  a  mysterious  old 
mill,  said  to  be  haunted.  The  book  has  a  wealth  of  fun  in  it. 

THE  PUTNAM  HALL  REBELLION 
Or  The  Rival  Runaways 

The  boys  had  good  reasons  for  running  away  during  Captain 
Putnam's  absence.  They  had  plenty  of  fun,  and  several  queer 
adventures. 

THE  PUTNAM  HALL  CHAMPIONS 
Or  Bound  to  Win  Out 

In  this  volume  the  Putnam  Hall  Cadets  show  what  they  can 
do  in  various  keen  rivalries  on  the  athletic  field  and  elsewhere. 
There  is  one  victory  which  leads  to  a  most  unlooked-for  disco  very. 

THE  PUTNAM  HALL  CADETS 

Or  Good  Times  in  School  and  Out 

The  cadets  are  lively,  flesh-and-blood  fellows,  bound  to  make 
friends  from  the  start.  There  are  some  keen  rivalries,  in  school 
and  out,  and  something  is  told  of  a  remarkable  midnight  feast  and 
a  hazing  that  had  an  unlocked  for  ending. 

THE  PUTNAM  HALL  RIVALS  J 

Or  Fun  and  Sport  Afloat  and  Ashore 

It  is  a  lively,  rattling,  breezy  story  of  school  life  in  this  country 
written  by  one  who  knows  all  about  its  pleasures  and  its  perplexi- 
ties, its  glorious  excitements,  and  its  chilling  disappointments. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP         ~-         NEW  YORK 


(THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS    BOOKS 

For  Little  Men  and  Women 

By  LAURA  LEE  HOPE 
Author  of  'The  Bunny  Brown"  Series,  Etc. 

1        12HM.  BOUND  M  CLOTH.       ILLUSTRATED.       UNIFORM  STYLE  OF  BINDING. 

Copyright  publications  which  cannot  be  obtained  elsewhere. 
Books  that  charm  the  hearts  of  the  little  ones,  and  of  which 
they  never  tire.  Many  of  the  adventures  are  comical  in  th« 
extreme,  and  all  the  accidents  that  ordinarily  happen  to  youth- 
ful personages  happened  to  these  many-sided  little  mortals. 
Their  haps  and  mishaps  make  decidedly  entertaining  reading. 

THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS 

THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  IN  THE  COUNTRY 
THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  AT  THE  SEASHORE 
THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  AT  SCHOOL 

Telling  how  they  go  home  from  the  seashore;  *jent  to  school  tmd 
were  promoted,  and  of  their  many  trials  and  tribulations. 

THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  AT  SNOW  LODGE 

Telling  of  the  winter  holidays,  and  of  the  many  fine  times  and 
adventures  the  twins  had  at  a  winter  lodge  in  the  big  woods. 

THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  ON  A  HOUSEBOAT 

Mr.  Bobbsey  obtains  a  houseboat,  and  the  whole  family  go  off  o» 
a  tour. 

,  THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  AT  MEADOW  BROOK 

The  young  folks  visit  the  farm  again  and  have  plenty  of  good 
times  and  several  adventures. 

i  THE  BOBBSEY  TWINS  AT  HOME 

The  twins  get  into  all  sorts  of  trouble — and  out  again — also  bring 
aid  to  a  poor  family. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,         NEW  YORIC 
i 


THE    TOM    SWIFT  SERIES 

_  By  VICTOR  APPLETON  _ 

12»>.  CLOTH.        UMFORM  STYLE  OF  ItHDMa.        COLORED  WKAPPOtt, 

These  spirited  Ulaa  center  in  a  realistic  way  the  wonderful  ad- 
rances  In  land  and  tea  locomotion.     Stori»»  like  these  are  impress*? 
the  memory  and  their  reading  is  productive  only  of  good. 


TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  MOTOR  CYCLE 
Or  Pun  and  Adventure  on  the  Road 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  MOTOR  BOAT 

Or  The  Rivals  of  Lake  Carlopa 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  AIRSHIP 

Or  The  Stirring  Cruise  of  the  Red  Cloud 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  SUBMARINE  BOAT 
Or  Under  the  Ocean  for  Sunken  Treasure 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  ELECTRIC  RUNABOUT 
Or  The  Speediest  Car  on  the  Road 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  WIRELESS  MESSAGE 

Or  The  Castaways  of  Earthquake  Island 

TOM  SWIFT  AMONG  THE  DIAMOND  MAKERS 

Or  The  Secret  of  Phantom  Mountain 

TOM  SWIFT  IN  THE  CAVES  OF  ICE 

Or  The  Wreck  of  the  Airship 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  SKY  RACER 

Or  The  Quickest  Flight  on  Record 
TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  ELECTRIC  RIFLE 

Or  Daring  Adventures  in  Elephant  Land 

TOM  SWIFT  IN  THE  CITY  OF  GOLD 
Or  Marvellous  Adventures  Underground 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  AIR  GLIDER 

Or  Seeking  the  Platinum  Treasure 

TOM  SWIFT  IN  CAPTIVITY 

Or  A  Daring  Escape  by  Airship 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  WIZARD  CAMERA 

Or  The  Perils  of  Moving  Picture  Taking 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  GREAT  SEARCHLIGHT 

Or  On  the  Border  for  Uncle  Sam  - 

COM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  GIANT  CANNON 

Or  The  Longest  Shots  on  Record 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  PHOTO  TELEPHONE 

Or  The  Picture  that  Saved  a  Fortune 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  AERIAL  WARSHIP 

Or  The  Naval  Terror  of  the  Seas 

TOM  SWIFT  AND  HIS  BIG  TUNNEL 

Or  The  Hidden  City  of  the  Andes 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP",  PUBLISHERS  NEW  YOR* 


THE  FAMOUS  ROVER  BOYS  SERIES 

By  ARTHUR  W.  WINFIELD 

American  Stories  of  American  Boys  and  Girls 

A    MILLION    AND    A    HALF    COPIES    SOLD    OF    THIS    SERIES 

12mo.  CLOTH.          UNIFORM  STYLE  OF  BINDING.  COLORED  WRAPPERS. 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  AT  SCHOOL 

Or  The  Cadets  of  Putnam  Hall 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  THE  OCEAN 
Or  A   Chase  for   a   Fortune 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  THE  JUNGLE 
Or  Stirring  Adventures  in  Africa 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  OUT  WEST 
Or  The  Search  for  a  Lost  Mine 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  THE  GREAT  LAKES 
Or  The  Secret  of  the  Island  Cave 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS 
Or  A  Hunt  for  Fame  and  Fortune 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  LAND  AND  SEA 

Or  The  Crusoes  of  Seven  Islands 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  CAM? 
Or  The  Rivals  of  Pine  Island 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  THE  RIVER 
Or  The  Search  for  the  Missing  Houseboat 
THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  THE  PLAINS 

Or  The  Mystery  of  Red  Rock  Ranch 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  SOUTHERN  WATERS 
Or  The  Deserted  Steam  Yacht 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  THE  FARM 

Or  The  Last  Days  at  Putnam  Hall 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  TREASURE  ISLE 

Or  The  Strange  Cruise  of  the  Steam  Yacht 
THE  ROVER  BOYS  AT  COLLEGE 

Or  The  Right  Road  and  the  Wrong 
THE  ROVER  BOYS  DOWN  EAST 

Or  The  Struggle  for  the  Stanhope  Fortune 
THE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  THE  AIR 

Or  From  College  Campus  to  the  Clouds 

<THE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  NEW  YORK 
Or  Saving  Their  Father's  Honor 

JHE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  ALASKA 
Or  Lost  in  the  Fields  of   Ice 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  IN  BUSINESS 

Or  Th«  Search  for  the  Misuing  Bonds 

THE  ROVER  BOYS  ON  A  TOUR 

Or  Last  Days  at  Brill  College. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


from  which  it  was  borrowed 


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